Living With This Regret
by DeathByMushrooms
Summary: An alternate season three: Addison is pregnant, and on top of trying to discern whether the father is Mark or Derek, she has the added responsibility of figuring out who she's going to spend the rest of her life with. Maddisony, Addeky, and even a little Addisexy.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Living With This Regret**

**Summary: **Addison called Mark to Seattle to make her feel beautiful. Will she regret that decision, or will it be the best she's ever made? And now that Derek is out of her life ... well, is he even out of her life? Plus, Alex, Izzie, Meredith, and a startling discovery or two … or three.

**IMPORTANT! :: **There are three relationship possibilities with our lovely Addison. I am up for all of them! So, if you prefer a certain ship, review! Heck, review more than once, and let me know. As the story draws to a close, I will see how many reviewers are in favor of each ship, and will end the fanfiction thusly. I have the whole story outlined out to a T, but the very ending is open to what YOU, the reader, would like. That said, I prefer Addek, but I'm partial to whatever makes my readers happy.

**Disclaimer:** Shonda &co. own, not I.

**A/N:** This chapter is the shortest of the series by more than half the other chapters.

Addison wasn't ready to call it quits with Derek. She wasn't ready, and furthermore, she wasn't sure she would ever be. She had realized for some time that he wasn't trying as hard as he might have at one time, but still she wanted to keep him to herself. Maybe that was selfish, or maybe it was the mark of a devoted wife. Either way, she was simply too stubborn to let him go.

But Derek had made the choice for her when he slept with his intern. Addison didn't like not being in control, and she especially didn't like it when her husband made decisions on her behalf. She didn't want to get a divorce in the first place, so why should Derek get to go have slutty sex because he _felt like it_ and not even give his wife a say in where this would leave their marriage? It wasn't the infidelity. She could have handled that much better than she could the fact that she _knew_ it was over with her husband but couldn't do anything about it. That they didn't even _talk_ about it before he chose a younger woman over her. Therein was the problem.

She couldn't grasp all of that alone. She needed a guiding hand, and at first thought about going to Richard. She realized quickly that—as much as he adored her—Richard couldn't help her, not when his own marriage was dissolving and when he treated Meredith the same way he treated Addison herself. So instead she turned to alcohol.

She had never been a heavy drinker. Even when Derek left her, she was too numb to pick up the bottle. But this? This was hell. He had not left her and slept with some intern for revenge. He had _made love_ to a beautiful young woman with whom he was apparently in love. Knowing that this was it, that there was no going back, drove her to alcohol.

She spent the entire day at Joe's, who kept sneaking sad, consoling looks in her direction. Addison knew he liked Meredith, and at one point confronted him on it.

"Is she better than me, Joe?"

"Of course not, Dr. Shepherd."

"I'm _not_ Dr. Shepherd."

"Er, okay."

"She is better than me. Everyone says so. Everyone just _loves_ Meredith! Derek does, you do, Richard does, the vet does. Everyone loves her." She paused long enough to down the shot Joe had just placed before her. "Why doesn't everyone love me? They loved me in New York. What's wrong with people in Seattle? I'm beautiful, Joe." She had been repeating the same thing to him all day, and it wasn't even twelve o'clock. Then, suddenly, an idea occurred to her. "You know what? New York did think I was beautiful."

With that she stood from the barstool she had been occupying most of the morning and slipped into the restroom. She stepped into one of the stalls and shut and locked the door. Not wasting any time, she pulled out her Blackberry and made what could potentially be a Very Big Mistake. She dialed the 212 area code, succeeded by those seven familiar digits, waited, and all but gushed when she heard Mark's voice on the other side.

**A/N:** Reviews keep me a-goin'!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long, I've been ill lately and didn't have much brainpower to write anything. Anyway, this fanfic will take place after 3.02, obviously, and pretty much everything thereafter will be AU.

Addison was lucky to remember that she was staying at a hotel. It would have been humiliating to show up in his trailer after making it abundantly clear that she was no longer staying there. Especially if he was … _having company_. But, fortunately for her, she recalled having made reservations at the hotel, telling them she didn't know how long she would be staying.

When she arrived at the hotel, she didn't even notice anyone in the lobby. It was ten-thirty, and she was still drunk. So when someone caught hold of her upper arm and wheeled her around, she was surprised, and resisted the urge to slap whomever it was.

"Addie," said the person—Mark. "Addie?"

She grinned and turned around to squeeze him tightly. "Mark!" she said ecstatically. "My favorite person in the whole wide world because my husband is a cheating slut and everyone likes her better and I'm living in a hotel and it was their dog, not mine anyway and—"

She had been very serious, and when he laughed at her, she glared. "_What_ is funny?"

He shook his head, the sparkle in his eyes lost on Addison. "Nothing. You're just … so cute when you're drunk."

As if a switch had been flipped, her face erupted in a beam of delight. She turned away from Mark and to the three or four other people in the lobby. With a laugh she proclaimed, rather loudly, "Mark thinks I'm cuuuute! He thinks I'm cute, Derek! I'm cute!"

Shaking his head and hiding a smile, Mark laced his fingers with hers and led her to her room. "C'mon, Addie. Let's get you out of these clothes. Did you know you were covered in coffee and … crumbs? Is that muffins?"

Addison allowed herself to be directed to the elevator, smiling happily all the while. "Yeah, and they were really good. And I'm gonna get really _fat_. Deliciously _fat_. So _fat_ that you'll wonder where Addison went because I'll be lost in all my _fat_."

Mark gave her a look, at which she simply grinned. "You know what you need?" he asked as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open on the fourth floor.

"Some more muffins?" she asked hopefully.

"Hmm… no. You need a change of clothes and a shower. Come on," he repeated.

She took out her keycard and unlocked the door. "I might need a shower. Do you need a shower, Mark? We can take a shower together. Because that's what we did in New York. Wasn't that _fun_?"

"You're drunk. You don't need a shower with me. Not now, at least."

"I am drunk, but I do too need a shower with you because my husband is probably showering with his intern and if he gets _her_, then I want _you_—"

He pressed a finger to her lips, and she silenced immediately. Mark's intense green eyes bore into hers as he tried to make her listen to reason: "Derek hurt you. I don't want to take advantage of you again because that didn't get me anywhere last time. When you sleep with me next, I want it to be a decision you're making not because you're upset or because you're intoxicated. I want it to be because you want it."

She was quiet for a moment, but then sat down hard on the bed. "Mark, I'm attractive,  
she said matter-of-factly. "I need to know I'm attractive because he doesn't think so. And I do want it. I want it from you, and you alone, or I would have never called you." She nodded, trying to convince herself that what she was saying was true.

"Addie…"

But before he could say anything, Addison had spontaneously bounced off the bed again and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Please, Mark," she said in a tiny voice, laying her head on his chest. "Please." She looked up at him pitifully, knowing he would cave if she tried hard enough.

He sighed and looked away from her, apparently considering his options. When his eyes met hers again, she frowned deeply, her eyes wide. And then, with only slight hesitation, he inclined his head and softly kissed her.

* * *

Two-and-a-half hours later, Mark pulled his lips away from hers, both of them soaked from a longer-than-necessary shower and breathing heavily from all the sex. It had taken a while, but Addison's buzz was killed, and she was now only suffering from the nausea and headache that went with extensive drinking. Presently, she was pressed against Mark in the shower, content for the first time since she had found Meredith's underwear in her husband's tux jacket.

"Was that a knock?" asked Mark, his arms around her waist.

"I think so. I'll get it." She stepped out of the shower and pulled on the robe hanging on the wall. "Probably room service with the champagne we ordered," she called over her shoulder, shutting the door to the bathroom.

When she opened the door, her heart sunk into her stomach. "Oh," she said dismally, "I thought you were room service." She allowed her eyes, unaware of the despondence in them, to linger on her husband for a moment longer before turning her back on him and moving to the bed. As soon as she sat down she picked up a glass of champagne that had been set there sometime between entering the room and relocating to the shower. It would not be good if Derek overstayed his welcome and found Mark in the bathroom, so she didn't protest his being there, and instead focused on getting him out as soon as possible.

Derek followed her inside, long-faced and looking tired. He shut the door and then turned, making his way toward her. He stopped and sighed. "I feel terrible." He paused, and Addison wondered if he had planned what he was saying or was truly upset. "I'm not proud of what I did. You deserve better. I'm sorry about the … sorry about the panties," he continued softly, as if trying not to upset her. "And prom. I—I'm sorry I did that."

With those words he screwed up his face in something of determination and came to sit by her on the bed. She briefly debated hitting him, but reminded herself that she was just going to agree with whatever he said so he would leave.

"Yeah. I'm sorry you did that too," she said sincerely.

He didn't respond, just looked at her sadly for what seemed an eternity, but was really only a few seconds. "Our marriage is over," he said definitively, meeting her eye for the first time in a very long time.

"Yeah, I guess it is." Despite everything, the words still came out slightly broken, no matter how resolute and sure she tried to sound.

Derek nodded and looked away. "It's all my fault." They were both looking at the ground now, though Addison's thoughts were not on her failed marriage, but on what would happen if he stayed much longer. "God, this is incredibly sad." She didn't look at him as she nodded. "Incredibly sad…" He sounded earnest, but she couldn't think of that right now.

And then there was a clicking as the bathroom door opened behind them. She didn't turn her head—her facial expression didn't even change. Instead, she sat there, waiting. Mark came out, and Derek turned to look at her, confused. Still, she stared straight ahead.

"Oh. Well this is awkward," said Mark. She could hear the smirk in his voice. Dimly, she wondered if he was wearing anything, since his clothes were outside in the bedroom.

Derek turned to grin at her, but her eyes remained locked on the wall before her. He must have been embarrassed, having had poured his heart out when she was doing the same thing he had felt guilty for. He took the champagne from her hand and took a sip.

"I feel much better now," he said, and he sounded it, too.

He stood up and left and Addison remained sitting, far more upset by his reaction than anything he had just told her. Then, without warning, she pushed past Mark, who had been walking toward her in a towel. She collapsed by the toilet, hugging it, and promptly ridded her stomach of the alcohol and muffins she had consumed during the day.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** So I keep changing the name of the story around, but I think it'll stay at this now. You'll no longer have to be completely confused. Sorry about the length thus far. I know it's unforgivably short, but bear with me.

When Addison awoke the next morning, it was to sunlight prying her eyelids apart, which caused her head to pound. She was still wearing a robe from the previous night, which had come undone so that she was all but nude and sprawled haphazardly across one side of the bed. She debated rising, but decided she was too exhausted. Instead, she groaned and attempted to roll onto her stomach to protect her eyes. However, she ran into a large object on the other side of the bed.

Surprised, she shot back to the other side. Lying next to her, mouth hanging half-open in his apparent deep sleep, was Mark Sloan.

"What the hell are you doing here!" It wasn't a question. She couldn't remember much from the night before, though she did vaguely recall drunk-dialing Mark. But at what point had he flown to Seattle—to her hotel room?

Miraculously, her shriek and scrambling only received from him a loud snore. He outstretched his arm, as if remotely controlled, towards Addison, his fingertips grazing her abdomen and falling short onto the sheets. At the thunk of his hand on the mattress, his eyebrows shot up in his slumber and he rolled over away from a somewhat appalled Addison.

"Mark," said Addison snappishly, shoving his shoulder. "Mark Sloan, WAKE UP!" Her insides squirmed ever so slightly as she realized she was used to having to awaken him in the mornings.

At that, Mark shot straight up in bed. "What?" he said, chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes wide. "What?" he repeated, more frantic. His gaze darted around the room, visibly frightened.

Despite her aching head and the many annoyances she had begun her morning with, the corners of Addison's lips twitched, almost into a smile. But she quickly remembered she was agitated by his presence and her back stiffened, face completely straight.

"Look, Mark…" she said slowly as he came to his sense and scrubbed at his face. "I don't … exactly … _remember_ everything that transpired last night, but … I do recall some … really good sex with … someone … and I never thought I'd hope it was you, but you're better than … other people it could have been, and—" She realized he was smirking at her. "Stop it. Stop looking like this is funny. It's not funny! You have to leave!"

He shrugged and slid closer to her. "Come back with me," he said plainly.

"You know I can't. My life is here now, Mark."

"Addie," he replied softly, his fingers meeting hers, "you're here because you wanted to make it work with him, but it's obviously not going to now, so … what have you got here?"

She glanced down at his hand and balled her own into a tight fist, moving it away from his without his noticing. "I have a job. I have a _life_. And Seattle Grace is dependent on me now. I can't just pick everything up because one person wants me elsewhere. It's not fair to them."

He just looked at her, appearing to be a little wounded. "You did it before. Just picked everything up left, and he didn't even want you here." He spoke as if his saying it in lower tones would hurt less.

"Mark…"

He shook his head. "I'm gonna go get some coffee," he said, apparently desiring a subject change. "You want something from Starbucks?" His eyes lingered on her a second more as she shook her head before he rolled out of bed, looking for his suitcase.

All she could do was sit there, unfeeling—with the exception of her head, which she thought my implode at any moment. It was really over with Derek—after eleven years of marriage—of trust, of love, of companionship… With one slutty pair of panties the last third of her life had effectively just gone _poof!_ and was made utterly redundant. And now, here she was, having just woken up, essentially naked, next to her soon-to-be ex-husband's boxer-clad ex-best friend. It was a mouthful, even to Addison.

With a small sigh she got out of bed as well, tying her robe back together. Mark glanced at her from the bathroom where he was pulling on a pair of jeans.

"What're you doing?" he asked as she pulled articles of clothing from her suitcase.

"Going to work."

Addison noted his quirked eyebrow as she slipped a turquoise blouse over her head. "No you're not."

"Really? And why wouldn't I?"

He sighed audibly and came to stand behind her. "Because," he whispered in her ear, causing the hair on the back of Addison's neck to stand on end, though she wasn't about to let him know that, "you have a hangover. And surgeons? Shouldn't go to work with hangovers. Especially when they have … _friends_ over, who would much rather they spend the day with them, perhaps in bed…"

He had been "stealthily" sliding his fingers under the hem of her shirt, sliding them caressingly across her stomach. She ignored them, turning to face him. "Mark," she stated evenly, "I'm going to work. Bottom line."

"You shouldn't. Incandescent lighting isn't good for hangovers. I know, I've been there." He kept a straight face, apparently trying to sound learned in the subject. "Besides, if I have to go back to New York, that means you probably won't see me for a very long time—if _ever_—and wouldn't you rather see me off than work all damn day?" He smiled earnestly, and Addison found it very difficult not to return the expression.

"You have a flight at eleven," she said matter-of-factly, nodding her head with finality and moving back to her suitcase, now digging for a skirt.

* * *

By noon Addison wished she had taken Mark's advice and stayed at the hotel. After all, at the hotel there was alcohol and a bed and … she refused to count Mark on the list, and decided to push the thoughts from her mind. Instead she focused on the salad she was eating, which appeared to be slightly wilted. It gave her the urge to vomit, but, she realized, that probably had something to do with the amount of liquor she had consumed the previous night. With that thought came a graphic flashback of being wrapped around Mark's waist in the shower— 

"Stop it," she muttered to herself, viciously stabbing a shriveled tomato. "You have to stop it."

Addison never ate outside; the interns were usually there, and the view from the patio wasn't exactly picturesque, so typically she ate in her office. Today, though, once she made it to the cafeteria she didn't feel like trudging back up the stairs, or even to the elevator, so she sat alone in the cafeteria. She tried to keep her thoughts from drifting to how, when they were happily married in New York, she and Derek would make sure they always had lunch together. It was inevitable; not halfway through her "meal" she found herself biting her lip to keep it from trembling, eyes full of threatening tears. And so, pushing back the somewhat unpalatable salad away from her, she stood and left, decidedly no longer hungry.

* * *

Later in the day she had managed to push all thoughts of Derek or Meredith—or, worse, both—from her mind with an afternoon crammed with surgeries. She had performed a successful a successful inguinal hernia repair on a four-week-old boy and an emergency cesarean section back-to-back. This had kept her focused, but by the time they were over, she stopped by the board, only to realize she had no more cases that day. 

With a sigh, she turned in the direction of the locker room and stopped dead.

Her husband and his whore-of-a-girlfriend were just down the hall, both of them smiling. Derek, she noted with a twinge of something acquainted with jealousy, had The Look in his eyes. The content smile plastered across his stubbly face made her sick. He was wearing a white collared shirt underneath a dark-hued sweater and nicely fitting slacks. She had always thought that look suited him, and recalling buying variations of the same outfit for him in great quantities from Armani did nothing to comfort her growing pain.

But it seemed that no matter how terrible it made her feel, Addison couldn't make herself look away from them—happy and laughing. Not even when Derek pulled his mobile out of his pocket and entered in what was no doubt a dinner date could she move. She was frozen to the spot, numb. She heard a faint buzzing as her headache returned, but even then she felt an overwhelming desire to have a strong drink.

And, she thought suddenly, perhaps some sex.

* * *

**A/N: **You see that 'submit a review' button down there? It's not _that_ difficult to click, is it:-) 


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Sorry for the slow turn-around. Life's been a little hectic lately. But here's some shippy stuff for Maddison fans. :-)

"Why are you still here?"

"Missed my flight."

"It was at _eleven_."

"I got up late."

"You're never asleep past eight."

"Well, we were up pretty late, don't you think?"

Addison harrumphed at the smirk and suggestive tone that Mark used to great effect then sat down on the edge of the bed farthest from him. Two hours ago Mark sitting in her hotel room would have been very welcome, but now she wished he would just go home. Or, she thought she did. Maybe she still wanted him. _Whatever_.

"You have to go home, Mark."

"So do you."

"This is my home now; I have a contract." She was begging—whether with Mark or herself she didn't know.

"You keep saying that." He slid up in the bed and rested his back against the headboard, looking down at his crossed feet.

Addison tried to keep herself from taking in his appearance, but it was difficult—it was always difficult, and she hated herself for it. He wore one of the tight black polo shirts that she had always thought fit him nicely. Mark evidently thought so too, given that he wore them like they were going out of style. His slacks were black and she knew them to be custom-made. Being who he was, he liked to show himself off. She wanted to kick herself when she shrugged, thinking he had good reason to do so.

"I say it," she said slowly as she slid her legs onto the bed and carefully positioned them away from his so they weren't touching, "because it's true."

He nodded deliberately before looking up and smiling. "Good night then."

Addison blinked. "What?"

"Good night." He slid out of the bed and found his suitcase. He pulled off his shirt, followed by his pants while she sat and stared at him in bewilderment.

"Good night?"

"Yeah, Addie. It means I'm going to _sleep_." He tossed his clothes in a leather suitcase.

"It's eleven-thirty. Since when does _Mark Sloan_ go to bed at eleven-thirty?"

He crawled under the covers and turned off the lamp beside the bed. "When he has an early start in the morning."

She cocked her head and moved closer to him, so she was now sitting on the other side of the bed. It didn't occur to her that he was going to sleep in _her_ hotel room. She doubted that he even had his own. "What're you not telling me?"

"You're so tenacious." He rolled over to face her, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Part of my charm." She rolled her eyes and gave him a gentle shove. "Seriously, you're not funny. _Tellll meee_," she whined, giving him her best puppy face.

"It's a surprise," he whispered, inching toward her.

"I don't like surprises," she said stubbornly.

"You'll like this one." He tugged the bedclothes down, surreptitiously sliding an arm across her waist.

She pretended she didn't notice. Part of her wanted Mark in a way that her mind told her she shouldn't, and then the other part … was unaccounted for. She let him pull her close to him, felt herself slipping down the bed next to him. A rush of excitement overcame her, as it did every time, when he positioned himself overtop of her, gazing down at her intensely. And then he kissed her, and she kissed right back. She wasn't vulnerable, or hurt, or drunk; she was perfectly conscious of every move she made and every move she let him make. Her stomach turned as she realized this was a turning point, but she carried on anyway.

* * *

"What're you doing?"

Mark glanced over at her and smiled softly. "Shh. It's only four-thirty. Go back to sleep."

"Why are you getting dressed?" She blinked back sleep, her eyes adjusting to the dim light pouring out of the bathroom.

"I have some things to take care of." He walked over to her and kissed her forehead, sitting by her on the edge of the bed. "You've got a wake-up call at six-thirty. Eight o'clock surgery, right?"

Her eyes fluttered closed at the warmth of his lips, and she nodded. "Mhm. What do you have to take care of?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it." Even with her eyes half-open and her mind barely functioning she could hear the smirk in his voice.

He patted her hip and stood again. "See you later," he said in a low voice and left the hotel room.

She smiled contently. She liked Mark when he was like that—kind and affectionate. It was a rarity, she knew, but when he showed that side it was absolutely lovely. It made her realize why she had fallen in love with him, but when he resumed his typical, narcissistic demeanor, she remembered darkly why she had left. Mark wasn't someone she should have ever been in love with, and he was definitely not suitable for a long-term relationship. He would hurt her, probably worse than Derek ever had, and she wasn't sure if she could take that sort of hurt anymore. What if he broke her?

She sighed, resolving to let it go for now, and fell back into a gentle sleep.

* * *

Addison arrived at Seattle Grace at 7:15 feeling refreshed. She didn't see Derek or Meredith or much of anyone until her surgery. She still had Alex Karev on her service, and noticed he seemed a little jittery as they scrubbed in.

"What the hell is your problem, Karev?"

He passively looked up at her. "I'm on _gynie_. What do you think my problem is?" he responded irritably. She rolled her eyes as she moved past him to the towels.

"It could be worse," she reminded him.

"Sure," he said shortly, shaking the excess water from his hands. "What's worse than being stuck on the Vagina Squad when I _could_ be on the burn case that _Meredith_ got with Sloan."

"Who?" She wasn't sure she had heard him correctly.

"Sloan. Mark Sloan. You remember? The guy you screwed while you were married to Shepherd."

She ignored his lewd comment for now. Mark was on the burn case? That's what his big surprise was? Was she supposed to be _happy_ he was here? Not that part of her wasn't. _Part_ of her was very, very happy Mark was in the hospital, but that was the uncontrollable side of Addison that she tried to keep in check. But with him working here today, it was going to be difficult.

* * *

Addison had been trying to avoid him all day, though she couldn't walk down a hallway without some amount of staring, or without hearing his name. At one point she heard raised voices coming from a conference room and recognized them with a pang of agony. She made sure the coast was clear and came to stand by the door, which was cracked ever so slightly.

"…_when you have no right to be here_!" That was Derek.

Then Mark: "Come _on_, Derek. Stop acting like this is the Refuge For People In Shitty Marriages. This is a _hospital_, and if the Chief wants me here? He's making a good decision for—"

"No, if the Chief wants you here he's making a _mistake_. You're a conceited _asshole_, and our interns shouldn't learn from someone from you."

"Right, because conceitedness in a surgeon is _so unforgivable_."

"It is if it interferes with your work ethic."

"This isn't about my work ethic. This is about my pissing on your territory."

She heard silence for a moment, then moved away quickly when Derek stormed out of the room. He glanced at her, but the look in his eyes was frightening. It was dark and clouded, full of rage. She had never fully realized just how much Derek hated his former friend, the man he had grown up with and relied on for thirty years of his life. It was somewhat amazing that a relationship could turn around so quickly, but, she thought to herself, the same thing happened with their marriage.

Mark came out a second later, and Addison was leaned against the opposite wall of the hallway.

"Did you hear all of that?" he asked regretfully, moving toward her with a frown. "I'm sorry, Addie, I—"

"Stop, Mark. I know." She sighed.

"When are you getting out of here?"

"My last surgery is in thirty minutes, and I should be out by ten." She was surprised that she had actually answered him.

"Yeah? Suppose we go out to dinner."

It was her turn to frown. "I'm sorry, Mark. I'm just … not up to it. I've not been feeling well since … Derek and I called it quits." She grimaced slightly. Shouldn't she be grilling him on why he was still in Seattle, why he was at the hospital, and especially why it sounded as if he intended to stay?

Mark nodded. "You need time."

She smiled forlornly. "I need time."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I'm really sucky about this whole updating thing, huh? Hmm. Sorry 'bout that. And this chapter is a little different from the rest, in that it's one scene, and there's a lot more detail. But that probably has something to do with it having been written at three in the morning, when my creativity is at a peak. ;-)

* * *

Waking up next to Mark was becoming routine, and it was growing unnerving. Every night she would go to bed with him in her hotel, and when she awoke in the morning she would groan in residual guilt. The whole affair was _wrong_, she knew, but she let it continue. All she wanted right now was someone to hold her at night, tell her she was beautiful, and assure her she didn't need Derek. There was no one in all of the world more compatible for that job than Mark. 

But this whole situation was getting ridiculous. It had been a week, and there hadn't been a single night when she _hadn't_ slept with him. Even when she explained to him that she needed time, the night still, somehow, ended with the two of them in bed together. She needed time, yes, but this was just sex. Just sex was not going to hurt anyone or thing.

Still through all of their pursuing—or being pursued—she and Derek still had not spoken long enough to arrange divorce. Theoretically, just one of them and a lawyer could draw up the papers without both of them being in the same room, but Addison literally could not stomach the idea of divorcing him. She hated him, and never wanted to see him again if she could help it, but she couldn't imagine _not_ being the wife of Derek Shepherd. And she knew—she just _knew_—that as soon as it was finalized, Meredith Grey would snatch her former husband up and drop the vet like yesterday's news. Then they would probably get married and have a pack of children because they were _slutty_—

Addison stirred in bed, her eyes still firmly shut. She really should stop thinking of Meredith and Derek like that. She and Derek had called it off, she had no right to think anything of that nature. And the worst part? She couldn't bring herself to hate her soon-to-be-ex-husband's girlfriend. She wanted to hate her, and part of her did—at least what she stood for. As a person, though, Addison actually sort of _liked_ Meredith. And that she really, really hated.

At long last, she sighed and her striking eyes fluttered open. She realized with a start that she was cradled in one of Mark's arms, her head resting on his bare chest, an arm draped loosely across his abdomen. She instantly recoiled. Their "relationship," by whatever terms it was defined was most definitely not about cuddling.

That's when she realized something that was not good _at all_.

She was wearing clothes. And not just underclothes or Mark's shirt, as sometimes happened—she was in pajamas. Her stomach turned. She moaned terribly as she recalled what had transpired the night before:

"_Add?" she heard his voice, as if far away, and was too sleepy to respond, so she just didn't. "Addie?" She swatted a hand that came to rest on her arm, shaking her gingerly._

"_Stoppit," she slurred, reflexively pulling a face._

"_Long day?" he asked softly._

_She didn't answer him, again, as she tried to ignore him. He eased himself onto the bed beside her, still in his Very Expensive Clothes he always wore to work. She was dominating all of the pillows—and there were many, and Mark carefully wrangled one from under her head with little difficulty. She inhaled sharply at the loss, but quickly got over it._

"_Good night, Addie," he had whispered, switching off the light and pulling her body close to his._

Last night with Mark, she hadn't slept with him. No, she had actually _slept_ with him. Clothes remained on, sheets remained as untangled as they possibly could be with Mark's cover-stealing ways.

Her nose wrinkled in something akin to disgust. She had become familiar with his sleeping habits. That was … devastating. She didn't _want_ to know anything more about him than she did before he came to Seattle. He was there, in her bed, for one purpose and one purpose alone. When they began acting civil, she knew something had to be done.

"Mark," she hissed, slapping his exposed chest. "_Mark_."

"_What?_" he spat sleepily, jerking the covers up to his chin and rolling away from her.

"For the love of _God_, wake up," she said harshly, sliding up against the headboard.

She heard him exhale heavily, whether in pain or in defeat she didn't know. He obeyed, turning back onto his other side and blinking blearily up at Addison. "Why is it so imperative that I'm awake at—" he glanced at the luminous clock behind her on the nightstand, "—four am?"

"You have to leave." There. No point beating 'round the bush.

"Oh hush. My first surgery's at seven-thirty. No need to be up until, maximum, six."

She glared. "Not for _work_. You have to leave my hotel, get your own."

He blinked more rapidly at her in what she knew to be disbelief. "You're absurd," he accused before attempting to roll back over and to sleep.

"No," she said, catching his shoulder, "I'm _serious_. You have to leave. I'm leaving in an hour, and when I get home this evening, your stuff had better be elsewhere."

He stared at her, hurt drawn onto his face lightly. She noted that it was only _lightly_ present. He was silent for a long time, and Addison didn't move; she was too sleepy to do much of anything.

"I'm not leaving," he said in a low tone after a while.

"Mark…" She was sick of having to hear this from him. She just wanted a nice, no-strings-attached relationship with him, not something that would require explaining and talking and _cuddling in pajamas_.

"No," he said defiantly, sliding up in the bed somewhat. "I can't leave."

"Really? It's quite simple. What you do is—"

"That's not what I mean."

"Oh? Then, pray tell, Mark, what _do_ you mean?"

Another silence. "I love you." He shrugged simply. "I love you and I don't want to leave you."

She found that she couldn't quite move, not even her eyes. She merely sat there, slightly stunned by his words. This wasn't the sort of "I love you" she was used to hearing from him. Normally, his proclamations of love were mechanisms to get her into bed, and they usually worked. But this was different. She could feel it, see it in his eyes, which were vulnerable. They were actually _vulnerable_. That in itself was something major. She couldn't deal with this right now; didn't _want_ to deal with this. The whole scenario was … _disturbing_.

But then, she thought, sliding back under the covers as Mark watched her with his stupid _vulnerable eyes_, what was so bad about his loving her? She and Derek were getting divorced—eventually, and he had flown to Seattle, presumably just to be with her. That was something. Even if she still loved Derek, and hated herself for it, maybe she could love Mark just as much one day, given enough of that time she had asked for.

"Addie?" he said in a quiet voice, almost completely unrecognizable as his own. "An answer … would be nice."

She shook her head. "Time, Mark. I asked for time." She felt she was going to be sick … again.

Mark must have noticed her paling, because he reached out a hand, cupping her face. "You alright?"

"I …" She trailed off, jumping from the bed and running for the bathroom. This was perfect. Just _perfect_. When did she become so fragile that the every little thing sent her hugging a toilet?

She dully noted Mark coming to squat beside her, placing a hand on her back. "You're not working today," he said bluntly.

"Mark … I have to work…" Her voice was shaking. She turned her head around to face him, arms still wrapped snugly around the commode. "_You_ just made me sick with all your … love…"

He smiled at this, and she was glad for a moment to see the crass side of him return. "My sincerest apologies." He held up his hand to pledge Scout's Honor. Mark, though, had never been a scout. He then stood and went over to the telephone, dialing numbers.

"Mark…"

"Can I speak with Richard Webber?" He glanced over at her through the open bathroom door and grinned.

She scowled in return.

"Dr. Webber? Hey, this is Mark Sloan. Yeah, I realize what time it is. I apologize." She watched him roll his eyes. He was never big on apologies. "No, I was calling about Addison? She just called me, not feeling too well. No, I don't think she'll be able to make it in today. I don't why she didn't call you herself. Good day to you too, Sir." He hung up the phone. "There you go."

"You think you're clever…" she said, a little weakly. She then turned back to the toilet and was violently ill again.

"You've been sick a lot lately," he pointed out, coming back into the bathroom and dampening a washcloth.

She only nodded, allowing him to run the cloth across her face and neck.

"And the other night…" he went on warily, "you were complaining about your breasts hurting…"

She realized where he was going with this. She didn't want to have to think about anything like that. The thought was nerve-wracking, at the least. There was simply _no way_ she could be pregnant.

**A/N:** Don't kill me!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** I'm thinking a weekly update is all you're going to be getting. Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. They doubled what I normally get. Keep it goin'!

Addison sat numbly on the edge of her hotel bed. She wore only a robe and her hair was an uncharacteristic mess. In her hand was a cup of coffee, but it was cold; she had simply been carrying it around all morning. She couldn't believe this was happening. In almost twelve years of marriage to the love of her life, she had never been pregnant. Yet, now, in the duration of the _month_ she and her husband had been separated, she could very well be having a baby. And the worst part was that she didn't even know whose it was. Either way, the options weren't good.

There was the obvious answer: her husband. Five years ago, such news would have been more than welcome. But he wasn't in love with her anymore, and she was awaiting the day when they went to their lawyers and officially divorced one another. If it was his, she knew he would come crawling back, if only to once again play the nice guy who didn't want to break up a child's family. But she didn't want him back, not even if she was having his baby. He had his _mistress_.

And then of course was Mark. The first time she slept with him it had ruined her marriage. He had been her husband's best friend; her _own_ best friend next to Derek. And on the night after Derek had slept with Meredith, she had called him to Seattle for comfort sex and he had just never left.

So either way she looked at it, she was overall … _screwed_. And she really wanted some alcohol. Or a cigarette. God, she hadn't smoked since her residency. But she couldn't do either, so she just sat there with the could coffee that she couldn't drink either.

She stared at the door to the bathroom. Behind that door lay a pregnancy test she had taken not even five minutes ago. The directions said to wait ten minutes, but she wasn't sure she wanted to look. What if it was positive? There were too many scenarios, none of them good, none she wanted to consider.

She sat on the bed for what seemed an eternity before slowly dragging herself up and to the bathroom. With only slight hesitation, she picked up the stick and stared at it.

Her stomach clenched. Well, that was that.

* * *

She couldn't handle the thought of working today, and so rescheduled all the surgeries she could for another day. She still had to go into work, though, because emergency surgeries were inevitable. She dressed unnaturally like herself—laid-back and uncaring. Right now she simply _didn't_ care. Everyone in the hospital knew her marriage was over, whether or not they knew the reasons and details.

It was eleven o'clock before she saw Derek. What she couldn't figure out was why he was _speaking _to her, on today of all days.

She was walking, a little aimlessly, down a hallway on the fifth floor when he caught up to her with his annoying jog. He ran a lot. He was a runner in college. She hated that she knew that about him. Forgetting would be easier if she didn't know everything about Derek Shepherd.

"Hey, Addison. Addie? Add…" She realized he was trying to get her attention and she was completely ignoring him.

"What?" she said, hoping she sounded as level as was normal for her.

"Sorry. Nothing. Um…" He glanced down the hall. "You just, er, left some things at the trailer, and I was wondering if you could come pick them up sometime…"

She glared at him fiercely. _Why_ had he chosen now of all times to tell her this? She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to _see_ him. In fact, she mostly just wished he would drop off the face of the planet. That would be okay. Except for the part where it wouldn't, not at all. If Derek ever left her life completely, she admittedly wouldn't know what to do.

"Sure, Derek. Whatever."

He frowned and she responded only by intensifying her glare. "What's wrong?"

"You know it's funny, really. Now that we're _over_ you get all worried and husband-like and I _can't help but wonder_: Where were you two years ago?" She shook her head, narrowing her eyes somewhat and turned on heel and left him standing.

If she had glanced back she would have noticed that he was frozen to the spot, looking genuinely perplexed.

She was feeling quite proud of herself, if still insensitive to her own feelings, when she turned the corner, leaving her husband behind. The words she had told him had been simple and nothing she hadn't said before, but something about saying them _now_ made her feel like she was doing something, being independent. She definitely didn't need Derek.

"Oof!" She had been so caught up in congratulating herself that she hadn't been watching where she was going.

"Addie?" said Mark immediately. "You alright?"

"I'm _fine_, Mark," she grumbled, backing away from him.

Her eyes followed his hand to her shoulder, which he gave a slight squeeze. "Are you sure?" He inclined his head and gave her a pointed look. "I mean, you were pretty sick yesterday…"

She shook her head. "No. I'm sure. I'm fine."

"Did you…" He glanced around to see if anyone was listening to them. No one was. "…take the test?"

She didn't know what to tell him, so she stood there for a moment, chewing the inside of her jaw thoughtfully. "Yeah," she simply stated.

He raised his eyebrows. "What was the outcome?"

Some more cheek-biting. "It was negative, Mark."

"Negative," he repeated, the grip he had on her arm slackening.

"Yes."

"Are you sure? How many did you take?"

"Two."

"And they were both negative?"

"_Yes_."

"Oh." He looked a little disappointed, and that alone scared Addison. Mark was … well, _Mark_, why should he want kids? "I'm sorry, Addie. You, uh, would've been a great mother."

That was shocking. He sounded genuine, but could she believe him? "Thank you," was all she could muster for now. And with that, he walked away to leave her in her stunned silence.

* * *

She had performed a total of _one surgery_ by seven o'clock and that had only taken three hours. The rest of the day was spent on consults—all of which turned out to be non-surgical. She was bored, and almost wished she had stayed in her hotel room, but if she had done that, then she would have laid around all day with her thoughts focused on the pregnancy test.

She was currently idling around the nurses' station. There were a few younger nurses behind the desk with their backs turned to her. They were speaking in loud whispers, and a few keywords caught Addison's ear: "McDreamy," "Grey," and "vet."

Her attention captured, she turned slightly so she could better hear them.

"…and everyone _knows_ he didn't even stand a chance," said a blonde nurse with a ponytail.

"Of course. I mean," the speaker, a mouse-like nurse, smirked, "he _is_ McDreamy."

"I feel bad for that poor vet, though. Did you see him? He was … something to look at." A red-haired nurse grinned, leaning against a wall.

"What happened, though—to make her choose Shepherd?" The blonde one again.

"Well, apparently, she thought she was pregnant," said the red-haired nurse in the most gossipy voice Addison had ever heard.

The very thought of Meredith Grey carrying her husband's child made her stomach turn. She didn't have much time to think about that, though, because this news caused a ripple of excitement in the congregation.

"Is she really?"

"What about Montgomery-Shepherd? Aren't they still married?"

"What happened then, Susie?"

"Well," went on the bomb-dropper smugly, "she must have figured that she couldn't possibly be carrying the vet's baby, and _hoped_ it was McDreamy's. I remember; I was the nurse that administered the blood test."

"Don't leave us hanging! Is she pregnant or not?"

"No." Addison rolled her eyes as the nurses' faces fell in unison. "But she gave the vet the slip right after she found out. It must have been a real wake-up call."

Addison stood from the desk and walked down the hallway, purposely in front of the gossiping nurses, whose heads all turned to watch her leave, no doubt wondering if she had overheard their conversation.

She slid into an empty exam room and immediately slipped down the wall, hugging her knees. This couldn't be happening. Derek and Meredith were back together. Great. That was _just great_. They were over, she and Derek. It shouldn't matter to her who he was with, or what he did, or even if he had an adulterous love child. After all, she was potentially doing the same thing.

She didn't know why she had lied to Mark. He had caught her off guard, and that was certainly no way to tell him he might be a father. She cringed. The thought of Mark as a father—especially to _her_ child—was unnatural. She had no idea what sort of father he would make, and honestly she didn't want to think about it.

She could have an abortion. That would solve all the problems, and she wouldn't have to worry about Derek or Mark or becoming a mother or how her baby would grow up. Yes, she _could_ do that. But Addison's morals went against it completely. She wasn't going to terminate an innocent to make her life easier. She couldn't do that.

Mark would just have to find out. She would have to tell him—provided it was his. At this point, she didn't know who the father was, and that realization made her sick.

**A/N:** This is your reminder to review.


	7. Chapter 7

Addison had been allowing her problem to eat at her for three days now. For three very long days she had barely slept (not by choice—she'd much rather just sleep and not have to think about it), and eating had become a bit difficult as well. She didn't walk as purposefully or speak as articulately as before. Her appearance, even, was becoming sloppy. Overall, Addison was a train wreck. And that simply would not do.

She decided before coming to work that she was going to _have_ to tell someone or she might bust. The knowledge of the fact was simply too much for her to bear on her shoulders alone. So she arranged a meeting with Richard—he was her mentor, her boss… most of all he was her friend, and was always there to listen.

She knocked on his door at ten-thirty and he called for her to come in. She didn't wait for him to ask her to have a seat; she simply sat in one of the chairs facing his desk. Richard was in his chair on the opposite side, peering at her over his spectacles. Characteristically, the tips of his fingers were placed together thoughtfully. He didn't speak; he appeared to want her to make the first move.

She didn't.

"Addison, if you're going to take up my time like this you have to have something to _tell_ me."

She sighed. She knew she wanted to tell him the truth—all of it, but that required a game plan, and she didn't have one. Why didn't she have one? Addison _always_ had a carefully made out plan. She realized that was another Very Bad Thing she could add to her progressively lengthening list.

"Yeah," she said slowly, buying time as she wondered how to tell him. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't mean to waste your time, Richard…"

He shrugged but didn't break eye contact. "You're not wasting my time, Addie, but if you don't tell me why you're here…"

"I'm pregnant," she blurted. Her mouth dropped slightly and her eyes widened somewhat. That was _definitely_ not intentional.

Richard's eyebrows shot up but other than that his expression remained unchanged. "Ah." He leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the top. "Derek's, I assume?"

She hung her head, shaking it slowly in confusion. "I … I don't know," she confessed in a small voice.

He made a strange sound in the back of his throat. "Just … from curiosity, what do you mean, 'you don't know?'"

She lowered her eyes, sighing. "I slept with—I've _been_ sleeping with … Mark Sloan." She said his name in a rush, not really wanting to admit it.

"Sloan? While you and Derek were…?"

She looked up at him, disgusted. "No! Ugh. Of course not. I learn from my mistakes, Richard. And he was in New York at the time, but … still." She hesitated, gnawing at her lip. "No, I didn't … with Mark, not until Derek and … his intern." She couldn't bring herself to say her name. She was _above_ her name, even if acting in such a manner was immature.

Addison watched as her mentor's face fell. "Does Derek know? About your … condition?" His tone was gentle, gentler than she ever remembered it being, even when she told him about Derek leaving her in New York.

"It might not be his," she said pointedly.

He shrugged. "It might be. What about Sloan?"

"No. No one knows but you and me." A frown crept across her face and her hands fell into her lap. She was well aware of how pathetic she looked. "What do I do?" Her voice cracked and almost broke.

Richard sighed. "Addie, I told you a long time ago that you could come to me for anything, work-related or otherwise. And you have. So far there have been few problems I haven't been able to help you through. In light of that," he paused, "I want you to consider what I'm about to tell you."

Addison rolled her eyes, frustration beginning to get the better of her. "Please, Richard, just tell me."

He didn't waste any time in doing so, appearing to not want to beat around the bush. "Tell him. Tell Derek."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"Because it might be his."

"It might be Mark's, are you suggesting I tell him too?"

"Yes."

She threw up her hands, overwrought and perplexed at her situation. "Do you know Mark? At all? He's not exactly material for Father of the Year."

Richard sent her a calm, sympathetic look that she would have resented from anyone else but him. "Addie, one of those men is the father of your _child_. Surely you wouldn't hold that information from them?"

Addison shook her head, despondence and ambiguity evident on her features. She didn't know what she was going to do. Honestly, she didn't want to think about it, but she couldn't do that. This wasn't the same as her marriage, where if she just _pretended_ everything was okay, it would be. No, pregnancy took a little more notice and sense of reality than that.

"I don't know, Richard. But, ah, thanks. For just … letting me talk."

"Wait," he said as they both stood, he shoving his hands in his pockets. "I thought you were with Sloan."

"Not anymore. Well, mostly." She bit her lip. "I'm not sure what we are."

Richard tilted his head to the side, tryin to show that he found that acceptable, but Addison could tell that he still wanted her to work things out with Derek. She also knew he didn't like Mark much, even if—

"Why did you allow Mark to sign on?"

His eyes bulged somewhat, but he recovered quickly, removing his glasses and sitting on the edge of his desk. "I think," he replied slowly, not meeting her gaze, "you should ask him about that."

"Richard…"

"That's all you get. I've got a surgery scheduled in half an hour."

She was not sure if he was earnest, or if he was just trying to get rid of her. Either way, she bid him goodbye and left his office.

"Nathalie," said Addison, putting on her bright façade. She laid the chart down on the counter. "I hear you're pregnant again. Congratulations."

The young girl shook her head, and Addison noticed that there were tears threatening her bright eyes. "No…" she whispered sadly, "my mother's going to kill me. She didn't find out about Zachary because I was staying with my dad and I put him up for adoption right after he was born. But this one?" She scrubbed her hands down her face. "She'll find out. And she will _kill_ me."

Addison smiled understandingly. "She won't kill you; she's your mother. And she cares about you, Nathalie, that's why she gives you a hard time. She just doesn't want to see you mess up."

"No, Dr. Shepherd, she just doesn't want to see me happy. I _want_ kids."

"What about Brendan?" Addison asked, referring to the eighteen-year-old's fiancé and the father of her first baby three years earlier. Addison knew them well; Nathalie had a lot of medical problems and Addison had been her surgeon for most of her life. In fact, Nathalie had flown to Seattle for "college tours" just to see her. "Are you guys still together?"

"Yeah…" she said, her tone suggesting that there was more to it than she let on. "But he doesn't know about the baby. He thinks I've come to tour the University of Washington." She smiled a little.

"You've not told him?"

"No. He really wanted to keep Zachary. We broke up for almost a month because of it. I just don't know how to put him through that again."

Addison nodded sympathetically. Then she frowned. What, was God trying to tell her something? She knew she should see an OB; that would tell her how far along she was, and thereby who fathered the child she was carrying. But she couldn't do it. She found that she didn't _want_ to know. The outlook wasn't bright either way, and so she wasn't ready to face the reality. She knew that if it turned out to be Mark's, she'd wish it was Derek's—and vice versa.

"Doctor Shepherd?" said Nathalie, smiling softly as Addison was snapped from her reverie.

She quickly apologized and grabbed the girl's chart. "Now, let's get down to business…"

Addison couldn't have been happier when she buttoned the last button on her top in the locker room. She smiled at her reflection, pulling a comb from her large purse and running it quickly through her hair. She had promised to meet Mark for dinner. That was a start, perhaps a step in the right direction. No sex, just dinner. This wasn't a relationship—that was definitely _not_ what she wanted from him right now. This was going to be a friendship. A good, healthy friendship like they had had before everything became muddled and twisted.

She exited the lounge and made her way to the parking lot, happy for the first time in a long time. So what if the happiness was—for the most part—a veneer? It was happiness nonetheless, and she was fine settling for as much.

She spotted Mark's sleek red sports car, sticking out like a sore thumb against the professional-looking sedans of the rest of the faculty. She saw the door to the driver's side was open and he was leaned against it casually, talking to someone too short to see over the vehicle. Addison's brow knitted in curiosity and she approached, somewhat warily, behind him from the passenger's side so he couldn't see her.

"…yeah?" she heard him say, arrogance and charm dripping from only the one word. "You and Derek? Really? I thought you were together all this time."

Addison's eyes narrowed instinctively as he realized who he must be talking to. She wanted to drag him away, but she was too proud for that—and she also wanted to hear what all they had to say to one another.

"No… He needs 'space' apparently." She could hear a more positive, joking tone in her voice though she still could not see Meredith herself. "You and Addison must have really done a number on him."

Addison smirked to herself, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. She didn't feel bad for Derek or Meredith, though she knew she probably should have. He still didn't know she had stayed with Mark in New York, and they weren't divorced. Perhaps he still had feelings for her after all…

She shook the thought from her head. _No_. Even if that was true, she didn't need Derek. No matter how his feelings were toward her, she didn't need his constant stream of lies and faux bliss.

"Oh yeah. Sorry 'bout that," he said, and Addison could again hear a smile. "Derek's … he's damaged too. I know that's hard to believe because he's 'McDreamy' or whatever it is you kids call him, but he's broken. Give him time, he'll come around."

"You think so?" She could tell that Meredith wasn't quite ready to put all her faith in him.

"I do," he replied gravely. "I've known Derek all my life, don't worry. You're too good a deal to pass up." His tone lightened substantially with the last line. Addison could have sworn he was—

"Are you flirting with me?"

—flirting with her.

She saw him cross his arms over his chest, which he had puffed out in an attempt to entice her. Usually that worked for him. And Meredith wasn't exactly the chastest of women. Addison felt something in the vein of jealousy uncoil inside her stomach.

"I might be." His voice oozed the obvious that affirmed what both Addison and Meredith had suspected.

She couldn't take it anymore. The grin he wore on his face was angering her. She made her way to the other side of the car. Mark glanced across the top of it at her, looking a little surprised.

"Addison," he said mildly.

"Mark?" She tried to mimic his tone, and did so perfectly. "Dr. Grey." She offered a curt nod.

Meredith said she had to be going and offered both senior physicians a nervous smile before crossing the parking lot. Mark glanced at Addison, obviously bracing for the worst.

"What was that about?" she asked calmly, sliding into the passenger's seat.

"We were talking." He got in as well, but didn't move to leave the hospital.

"Talking. Right, Mark. You know, the last time you talked to her? Do you remember that? You ended up _bleeding on the floor_."

"It was innocent, Addie."

She glared over at him, but he was concentrating on the windshield. "Don't lie to me, Mark. I know how you are, and I know you're going to flirt—but don't _lie_ to me."

"I'm sorry," he said flatly.

"It doesn't matter. It's not like we're in a relationship anyway."

There was a moment of silence before he finally grinned slightly and put the car in gear. "We still on for dinner?"

She couldn't help but smile at his sudden change in demeanor. "Of course. You don't expect me to pass up food when it's _you_ buying, do you?"

"There's my Addie."

**A/N:** So that was pretty long. Really, like the longest chapter of this series so far by about 700 words. Pretty cool, huh? That's my treat for my terrible lack of updating. Sorry 'bout that! But ya know what I like? I like opening my e-mail and seeing review alerts. That's really very awesome.


	8. Chapter 8

She wanted to tell Mark. _Really_. In fact, the only reason she had surrendered so easily to his flirting with Meredith had been because she wanted to tell him at dinner. And also because she didn't care. _Really_. She and Mark were friends, whether she was potentially carrying his child or not, and if he wanted to seduce Derek's intern, that was fine by her. _Really_.

But somehow, when the evening was over and she had ordered water after water and he scotch after scotch, Mark was none the wiser. Upon her first order of drink, he had quirked an eyebrow and inquired about her choice, but she had simply told him that he had a tendency to drink more than was legal for driving. He had bought that. Just _why_ she had told him that instead of the truth, she wasn't sure of at the time. But now, as she dressed herself in the cold, uninviting hotel room, she knew the answer. She still was afraid of the truth, of what Mark or Derek would say. Knowing she was scared was the worst part.

She sighed resignedly, now running a straightening iron through her hair. She had finally decided to go through with it. There wasn't exactly forever to ponder on this. Whether she wanted to or not, Addison had made that dreadful appointment with the OB. Not just any OB, either—the best in the state of Washington, and someone she had met on several occasions at seminars and conventions. On the down side, Dr. Stacy was one of Derek's friends from medical school. They had kept in touch even after his and Addison's marriage, and the three of them had been fairly close before Stacy had moved to the west coast. But, that was going to stop her; she was Addison Montgomery-Shepherd—she wasn't going to settle for anything less.

There. She was finished with her borderline ritualistic grooming process. She examined her appearance in the full-length mirror. Satisfied, she grabbed her keys and purse and exited the hotel.

* * *

"_Doctor Shepherd_." Dr. Stacy entered the room, holding her chart and smiling. "Pregnant at last and I'm the doctor you choose. I feel honored."

Addison returned the doctor's smile. "I would say there's no one better, Chris, but I wouldn't want to inflate your already large head." She smirked.

"I'm wounded, Addison," he said, still reading over her medical history.

"No you're not," she commented airily.

"You're right," said Stacy, making his way over to her. "Normally, I'd discuss your history and all that jazz, but you've got a pretty detailed chart, here, and there are more important issues at hand."

Addison's eyebrows immediately shot up. What could be more important that doing his job? Wasn't that pretty damn important in itself?

"Like what?"

A wave of relief washed over her as Stacy's handsome face cracked into a toothy smile. "Shep," he said simply, referring to Derek. "Where the hell is he?"

"Where he always is, Chris," was her instinctive response. "Working." She didn't know why she felt such a need to lie to everyone, to keep the truth hidden. Perhaps it was part of how she worked: maybe she just needed—no, _throve_—on denial.

Stacy nodded. "Nothing's changed, I see."

"This is Derek we're talking about," she said pointedly.

"Good point." He sat down in the swiveling chair popular among those with a medical degree. "So, before we get to all the boring stuff, I'm betting you want to know all about your baby, huh?"

She smiled in response. She and Chris hadn't spoken since he had left New York some four years ago, but he still had the ability to know exactly what she wanted.

He pulled a cart toward them, instructing her to lift her shirt. Stacy squeezed the clear gel out on her abdomen and proceeded with the ultrasound. He could have just called in a nurse, but Addison knew he wanted to do this himself.

"Look at that," he whispered. He seemed just as awestruck as Addison herself.

There on the screen was her baby. She recognized it automatically. Suddenly the situation was all too real. She felt a tear slip down her cheek. Why couldn't this have happened five years ago? She hadn't been ready then, but at least five years ago she and her husband were still happily married in a large New York brownstone. At least there they had spare bedrooms, one pretty much _belonging_ to Mark, and two that were used for storage. One of them could have been cleaned out and made into a baby's room. She could see them now, wearing sweatpants and laughing and thinking up names.

She recalled the first and last time they had painted together. By the end of it they were covered in paint and wearing nothing but the sheets once covering the furniture. The next day they decided calling in professionals would be the wisest idea—they couldn't get _any_ work done without becoming distracted.

"You alright, Addison?"

"I'm fine," she lied quickly. "I just … can't believe that. I'm thirty-seven years old and I'm having a baby. Wow."

Stacy nodded understandingly. "And by the looks of this, you're … about six weeks. That sound about right to you?"

She shook her head in agreement, but she was suddenly completely numb. _Six weeks_. That meant that there was only one candidate for father now. And unfortunately, she knew which one it was. After weeks of trying to suppress the reality of her pregnancy, it was now staring her in the face. She was pregnant, and there was a father.

* * *

Later at the hospital, Addison sat in an empty exam room pondering her choices. She knew she had to tell Mark. He had to know. He had the right to know. So she called his cell; she realized that she didn't even know where he was staying. For all she knew, he could be in the same hotel.

"Mark?" she said when he picked up.

"Addie," he said brightly. "Good to hear from you, finally. What's up?"

She sighed audibly. "We need to talk. Can you please drop by my room after your shift this evening?"

On the other end, he hesitated. "Yeah, sure. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's … _wrong_, Mark, I just need to talk to you, okay? See you then." She closed her phone, realizing she had sounded irritable and agitated, but she was. She was also a month-and-a-half pregnant. She should be allowed some hormonal impulses.

* * *

As promised, she heard a knock on her door at ten-fifteen. She was sitting on her bed, staring at the opposite wall, just as she had done so long ago when Derek had broken it off with her. She still couldn't believe this was happening. Life was moving fast, and she didn't know if she had the strength to keep up.

Nonetheless, she slid off the bed and answered the door. Mark was on the other side, looking concerned with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black slacks.

"Tell me," he commanded, not waiting to be invited in. Old habits die hard, she decided.

"Sit down first."

He did as he was told, choosing the bed. Addison wanted to glare at him for his decision, but elected to ignore it. "Mark, I have some really, really … well … I have news."

"So I gathered."

"I don't … _quite_ know how to say it…"

"Addie, I've been waiting all day to hear this. So you damn well better spill." His tone would have sounded assertive and almost cruel to anyone else, but Addison heard the gentle supportiveness underneath his mask of brutal masculinity.

She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. After a moment, she said evenly, "I'm pregnant."

Addison watched Mark's jaw slacken ever-so-slightly, but he quickly brought it back up to bite his bottom lip.

"Um…"

She couldn't keep her lip from twitching upward. She had rendered Mark Sloan speechless. That was surely something to brag about.

"What's amusing about this?" She could tell he was trying to demand it of her, but he failed pathetically.

"Nothing, Mark. But, you should know…"

"What?" he said anxiously.

"The father…"

"Go on," he said, though he was actually cutting her off.

"…is Derek."

His face fell visibly. "Oh."

"I thought you should know. Since you asked earlier, when I took the tests and kicked you out of my hotel room. I lied. I was scared and … I didn't know what to think or say to you, so I just lied. I found out today that it's Derek's anyway, so it doesn't matter either way to you…"

"Addie," he said softly, "of course it matters. It might be Derek's, but that doesn't mean I couldn't … you know…" He sounded awkward, not at all like himself. "Well, I mean—I could raise it. If you didn't want to tell him, I mean. He doesn't have to know…"

She became conscious of tears forming her eyes and quickly swiped at them. Mark was offering to raise a child that wasn't even his. She wasn't sure if she was hearing him correctly, but the strained, perplexing looking on his face confirmed that yes, she was.

"Mark," she offered, but trailed off. She shook her head, and tried again: "I have to tell him. I mean, he's still my husband and it's his… Though, what you're saying is incredibly sweet. I would never ask you to do that, though."

"Addison, really, you shouldn't tell him. He's got Meredith, and they're … whatever. Don't. D'you think he _deserves_ to know?"

"Mark," she said, somewhat appalled that he seriously thought as much. "Of course he deserves to know. It's his child!"

"Only by blood, Addie."

"I can't believe you're suggesting this."

"It's the right thing to do. There's no point in shattering his happiness."

"We're married. He's still obligated to me, and to this baby."

"He dropped his obligations to you a long time ago."

"You're really telling me this, aren't you? I'm not imagining it."

"Why is this so hard for you to grasp, Addison? Just don't tell him, and I'll take responsibility."

"I don't _want_ you to take responsibility."

"Oh, right. Because _Derek_ is the sort of person you want to have kids with."

"And you're so much better?"

"Yes!"

"Have you _completely_ lost your mind?"

"Have you?"

Addison realized her fists were clenching and their voices were raising. She sighed. "Just leave. I'm sorry I told you."

Mark got off the bed, but he didn't look angry. He looked indifferent, and that hurt her. "Fine. I don't _care_. Tell him if you want to, but it's not the right decision. I'll be at Joe's. I'm meeting Meredith there."

Addison watched him go, the feeling of numbness overcoming her once again. Great. Life was just _great_.

**A/N:** There you have it. And I'd like to take this moment to once again beg for my life. If you've got a particular way you'd like to see this end and have now lost all hope, all I have to say is: _stick with it!_ Just because Derek's the father doesn't mean anything.

As always, reviews are lovely. ;-)


	9. Chapter 9

Addison sat, still as death, on her bed. She was hugging both her knees and a pillow, eyes glued to the wall. She was carrying Derek's baby. If she told him that, she was fairly certain he would end it with his intern and come crawling back to her. He would no doubt swear to her over and over that he wanted _her_ and that it had nothing to do with his need to be the good guy. Essentially, they would be a family. She would have a _family_.

With that thought came an overwhelming shudder and she had to fight back tears.

She didn't want her child growing up the way she herself had. Her parents, she had found out earlier on than any child should, had married strictly for convenience. Her mother had been in love with another man—her father's brother, in fact—for as long as Addison could remember. She knew that by telling Derek he would want to try to make things work again, but frankly she didn't want to. She wasn't going to subject her child to loveless parents, to some measure of neglect as its parents avoided one another—and so, by default, the child too.

Perhaps Mark was right—at least to some degree. She didn't want to give her marriage another try; it was devoid of life. Given that, Mark was right. She didn't want any sort of tie to Derek, but she _definitely_ didn't want to have his baby.

But Mark, who had just all but stomped out of her room like a two-year-old to meet Meredith Grey at a bar, wanted her to just … not tell him. He wanted to pass her baby off as his. He wanted her to completely lie to her husband about the paternity of their child.

Another chill shot down her spine, jarring her entire body; it was strange, almost foreign, to realize that she and Derek were still married, that she was pregnant with his baby. But at the same time, the thought of not being married to him, of having anyone else's—that was more than foreign—it was unimaginable.

-------

"…and Dr. Karev will come by to prep you for surgery in a little bit."

Addison flipped shut the chart she was holding. As soon as her back was turned on the patient, her smile slid from her face. Professionally, her façade was as strong as it ever was. It was only cracked and fraying when it came to her _personal_ life; no way was she going to let a silly thing like pregnancy interfere with her job.

"Addison!"

…Or Derek Shepherd.

"Derek," she deadpanned. He was standing in the hallway, looking surprised, as if he couldn't believe she was actually there. She rolled her eyes, but he didn't move.

"What?"

"Nothing."

A hand immediately went to her hip. She knew him better than that.

"You're lying."

"Yes." He hesitated before continuing: "Can we talk?"

"Derek, I have charting to catch up on…"

"I know. And you don't owe me anything. I'm just asking you favors like you owe me something, and you don't. In fact, if anything, _I_ owe _you_. You found the panties, and that was while we were working on it. Mark wasn't—"

She held up the hand with the chart in it to silence his oncoming tirade. "Stop."

"Sorry."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's—nothing."

This received from her another eye roll. "Maybe you've forgotten, Derek, but I've known you for half your life. I know when you're lying. Which, right now, you are doing. So either tell me what's bothering you, or get out of my way so I can work."

She tried telling herself that she only wanted to know what was wrong because he was in her way, but in the back of her mind, she knew it was because she still loved him. She didn't want to, and she would never admit it even to herself, but that was her real reasoning: she loved him and if he was hurt or upset, she would try to help him.

"It's Meredith," he breathed.

"Oh, great," she mumbled. "If that's all, you'll need to move out of my way so I can get this chart to Karev. He has a patient to prep."

"No! Wait, it's not Meredith. I mean, it is. But mostly it's Nancy."

"Nancy?"

"Yes."

"What does she have to do with Meredith?"

"Meredith's been, um … she's spent the past few nights at the trailer, and … anyway … Meredith thinks I'm sleeping with her, so she stayed at—"

"She thinks you're sleeping with your sister? I knew you were low, Derek, but, really…"

"Will you listen?" He sighed, shoving his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. "Nancy was on the bed when she came in last night, and I had just gotten out of the shower…" He trailed off for a moment, but recovered: "She went to Joe's for a 'girls' night' or something. And then she didn't come home…"

Addison couldn't keep herself from smirking. There were reasons she loved her sister-in-law and that was one of them. Also, she knew Meredith hadn't been with the girls last night, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Oh, Nancy's in town?"

Derek's eyes narrowed. "You're not helping."

"Gee, Derek, I don't know _why_…"

"Can't we be mature about this? Act our age? That sort of thing?"

"Derek. You are none of my business anymore. What you and your intern do is really none of my concern. Honestly, I don't care if she thinks you're sleeping with your sister, and I don't care if she didn't spend the night. But most of all, I just … _don't care_."

He frowned at her, and then stepped to the side. "We're meeting with the lawyers day after tomorrow," he said quietly.

"I know."

"So that's it."

"That's it."

Pulling together her professional façade once again, Addison calmly smiled and walked past him.

---------

"Mrs. Shepherd!"

Addison looked up from the nurses' station where she had been scribbling in a chart. At the sight of the skinny brunette before her, a real smile spread across her face. Without a second thought she enveloped her in a tight, sisterly hug.

"Nancy!" She pulled back, studying her face for changes. It had only been a year since she had seen the woman, but she still felt something must have changed about her, if only because the whole of Addison's own world had been turned upside down.

"Derek said you were in town."

"Ugh, you're actually speaking to him?"

"Only through force." Addison smiled.

"Of course." She grinned. "How are you? Your mom wrote Kathleen saying you two were actually going through with a divorce this time. I didn't know if it was true—you know how those two like to gossip—and _Derek_ wouldn't speak to me on the phone, so I flew out. Plus, it has been too long since I've seen you, Addie."

"I know!" she said, excited. Nancy and Addison had been friends for longer than she could remember. It had been through her that she had met Derek, even. "Blame it on your brother."

"I intend to do that," replied the other woman, leaning against the desk. "As soon as I see him. Oh, did he tell you I met the mistress?"

"He mentioned it." Addison smirked.

"Mhm. I can't believe they're living together in that _trailer_. What's gotten into him? That can_not_ be Derek." She made a look of disgust. "But seriously. What does he see in her? She's nothing like you. She looks like a _stick_."

She smiled. "Thank you, Nancy. I have lunch in an hour. Join me for some really disgusting food?"

"Wouldn't miss it. You know how I love hospital food, Addie. Half the reason I became a doctor."

---------

"Nancypants!"

Her sister-in-law had only just joined Addison at her table in the courtyard when Mark approached carrying a sandwich he had no doubt sent an intern after. Nancy craned her neck around and grinned at the sight of him.

"Hey, Loser!" She jumped up and hugged him—a gesture he returned like a brother would. "I heard you were here. What're you trying to do, drive Derek crazy?"

He smiled and pulled away from her, both of them sitting down on the same bench.

"No, Nancy. He's my family. You don't just … let your family go without a fight." Addison's attention quickly snapped to her lunch as Mark glanced purposefully at her.

"So I've heard, between you two." Nancy shifted her gaze to Addison as well.

"Has she told you the big news?"

Addison's eyes shot up, bulging slightly. "She already knows about the divorce, Mark. That's why she's here." But she knew that the divorce was not _quite_ what he had in mind when he said "big news."

"Not _that_ news, honey," he said, knowing she wouldn't do anything about his pet names in public. "The baby."

Nancy's eyes widened to rival Addison's. "What _baby_? Why don't _I_ know about a baby? Is it yours, Mark?" She turned to him excitedly, then laughed before either of them could correct her. "Oh my God! That's really quite _hilarious_. Mark Sloan, with a _baby_…"

Addison had been glaring, but her expression softened somewhat at her last words as the conversation that had transpired, before everything was thrown out of control, the previous night between Mark and herself.

He chuckled, but it didn't meet his eyes. Addison was quick to notice that. "As much as I'm sure the thought amuses you, Nancy, I'm afraid it's Derek's," he said, managing to _sound_ like the idea was okay with him.

That seemed to stifle her laughter. It was painfully silent for a moment before she reached across the table and took Addison's hands, her face serious but kind in the way that only a Shepherd could pull off. That look reminded Addison so much of her husband she had to bite her lip to keep from gasping.

"It's going to work out with you and Derek. This is just a phase he's going through and you'll work past it. You always do."

"You really think so, Nancy?" she asked before her mind reminded her that she didn't _want_ to work it out.

"No, Addie. I know it. This baby? It's just proof that you two are meant to be together."

---------

**A/N**: What was the point of this chapter, you ask? To be honest, there really wasn't one other than I am slightly in love with Derek's sister and wanted to give her at least a _little_ screen time.

Expect some answers to all these still-open (and newly opened) questions in the next chapter.

By the by, I've just realized I've been bumbling through this fic without a beta. So if anyone wants to take a look at it, just let me know via PM or what have you.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Ack, I suck, I know. But life has been pretty … crazy, I guess? I lost two best friends and a boyfriend this past month, so life has not been great. Add that into the usual dismalness of the holidays, and you've got a bang-up month and a good excuse not to update fanfiction!

By the way, this is the longest chapter of the series so far by about 250 words. Isn't that impressive? No, not really. But we'll pretend.

I'll try to have chapter ten out very quickly, but I can't promise anything. I'm just saying that I will definitely _try_ considering how long it took me to get this one out.

-----

Addison sat in her car outside the law office. She didn't want to move. Something was telling her that of all the possible things in the world she should do today, what she was about to do wasn't one of them. So her Mercedes idled in the parking lot, the music on the radio achieving only a dull hum in comparison to Addison's thoughts.

How had her marriage come down to this? Twelve years ago, she and Derek were the happiest people she knew—and everyone agreed. They were in their own world. Or as Vonnegut had said: a nation of two. When had that changed? When they had been given separate shifts? Surely they were strong enough to work through something as trivial as separate shifts… But then again, maybe not. Maybe they were doomed from the beginning, and the death of her marriage was meant to be long and drawn out, milking every drop of pain until they were both bone-dry to the point of numbness. Or perhaps she was only speaking for herself.

And now what was she supposed to do? Of all the inopportune times that her husband could have chosen to take on a mistress, why did it have to be now? Somewhere with that there was irony. They were married for over a decade with only a single false alarm that had had them scared for a whole of four hours. Yet now, when their relationship was circling the drain, she's pregnant.

Her hands scrubbed lightly at her face; even in her most devastated state, she was subconsciously aware of her carefully applied makeup. Slowly, she dragged her fingers to the ignition and switched the car off. But it still took some effort to prize herself out of the car. With a long glance in the mirror, she finally opened the door, and there she stood, knowing now that divorcing Derek had been a long time coming and not exactly painless, but it was the right thing to do, baby or no.

-----

Addison was very good at hiding her feelings. On the surface, she was calm as a spring breeze, but underneath she was a tempest of emotion. She was sitting now across the oak table from Derek, inspecting her nails and drinking the not-very-good-but-still-drinkable coffee before her. She was determined to be just as okay with divorcing him as he was with doing the same to her.

She liked to think she was doing a good job; Derek was frowning, his brow creased. He held his matching white mug in one hand, staring into it with wide, distant eyes. Now and then he would snap to, smile vaguely and take a sip of his coffee. But when the liquid was down his throat, he almost instantly fell back into his stupor.

Addison was smirking at her soon-to-be-ex-husband's betrayal of emotion when their lawyer walked in with The Papers that were going to seal their fates.

"It says here that neither of you brought any assets into the marriage," he said, taking a seat at the head of the table.

Addison's smirk never faltered. "Well, I had my trust fund," she stated matter-of-factly, then continued on, eyeing Derek meaningfully, "and a _sparkling_ personality. And the futon couch."

The futon had been in her dorm room in medical school, and had been the first place they had made love some fifteen years ago. She had brought the couch up to spite him, and it appeared to be working:

"Yes, Addison had a very _ugly_, very _heavy_ futon couch." He didn't miss a beat, trying to make her eat her words—as always.

"Whatever happened to that couch?" Of course, she knew _exactly_ where it had ended up.

"We gave it to Mark."

"She can have him too."

"I don't want him…"

"Okay, that's settled. What else?"

"So. Aside from Addison's trust fund—which remains in her name—you split everything—stocks, bonds, 401K's—down the middle. The only thing that gets a little complicated is the real estate."

Derek's brow knitted again. "Let me make this simple: I'd like to keep my trailer and the land in Seattle … Addison can have the rest."

Her head jerked up at this and her eyes narrowed. "Hold on."

"That's the house in the Hamptons and the Brownstone overlooking Central Park. That's very generous, Dr. Shepherd."

"Hold on. He's up to something."

He looked up from the paperwork with what she assumed to be a pretend surprised look. "No."

"I came here prepared to fight over CDs and books, go to war over a crystal vase. What are you up to, Derek?"

"The divorce is my fault," he said mournfully. "Let me take responsibility."

"We both had affairs."

"You had a one-night stand with _Mark_," he spat the name of his former best friend like it burned to speak it.

She fidgeted guiltily. This was the perfect opportunity. She could tell him about her two months with Mark now. "Derek, actually—well—it was—"

"Alright, okay, it was two nights. You made a mistake." His eyes dropped from hers in what she knew to be guilt as well. "Meredith and I, we had a relationship." He turned to the lawyer, tossing the papers to him. "Make these changes, and I'll sign the papers today."

Addison's mouth opened and shut like a fish's, but she couldn't find the courage to correct him. Instead, she just nodded and allowed Derek to dominate the rest of the meeting.

-----

"Derek," she grabbed his arm gently, willing him to turn around, "wait."

He spun around, smiling peculiarly. This was it. She was going to tell him—about the baby, about staying with Mark after he left New York … everything. She was going to come clean. His face was expectant; neutral, even. They had just divorced, just completely been severed from one another, and he was fine. That stung. Of course he didn't love her, and she was working on achieving the same, but to be so… indifferent? That was worse than any amount of anger.

And so, with one look, her courage evaporated once again. Panic threatened to overtake her in the split second following grabbing Derek's arm and noticing his expression. As usual, her logic was a step ahead of the rest of her more emotional controls.

"Are you going back to the hospital? I thought, if you didn't drive, I'd give you a ride." Never mind the fact that it was already four o'clock and she had taken the rest of the day off anyway.

Again with his detached smile. "Ah, no, actually. Thought I might go out to the river. Thanks anyway, though, for the offer."

She returned his poker-face. "Sure. What are ex-wives for?"

"Want me to answer that honestly?" he asked good-naturedly.

Addison flashed him a sweet smile as she made to move past him. "No, Derek, that's quite alright."

-----

Addison arrived back at her hotel at four-thirty feeling quite upset. As she removed her shoes, she wondered why she felt so terrible. Was it divorcing Derek, or the neutrality with which he had regarded her afterward? Honestly, she didn't know. She lay on the bed, not bothering to fold back the covers.

What was she supposed to do now? She had a baby on the way. A baby that, most days, didn't even seem very real. Though there were constant physical reminders, she always seemed to think of her unborn child in the most idealistic of senses. She realized that probably wasn't good. She should be happy or sad or angry or … _anything_. But instead, she remained impartial and unfeeling towards the son or daughter gestating in her womb.

And what was she going to do without a father? There had been countless instances where she had advised a patient that she didn't need a man to make her strong. Yet, here she was, in dire need of something with a penis.

And there her thoughts inevitably drifted to Mark. A small smile spread across her lips. He was always there for her before, why not now?

She had just sat up in bed when she realized the answer to her own question: he couldn't now because they weren't on speaking terms. And for something so ridiculous … he was only trying to be nice...

She internally told herself to stop; she didn't want to forgive Mark just yet, even if she was wrong. The way she saw it, she deserved some time to be angry with him.

But the fact remained that she needed to talk to … anyone. There was her mother, but she didn't like her mother's conversation much; Sav, but she and Weiss had flown to Paris and wouldn't be returning until next week; Nancy, but she would be working now; Richard … no, Adele. She would call Adele: if anyone knew anything about what she was going through now, it was definitely her.

"Adele?" she said when she picked up, her voice coming out probably a little too weak.

"Addie, honey? What's wrong?" Her tone was soft, concerned, and motherly. It never occurred to her that Richard and Adele viewed her and Derek almost as their children.

"It's … um, I don't know. It's kind of stupid. Derek and I just signed the divorce papers."

"That's not stupid, sweetheart. Was it bad?"

"No, we split everything. He wanted me to have most of it, but I wasn't going to let him hold that over my head."

"I'm sure it'll work out with you two."

"Really?" That was quite a strange thing to say, considering what Addison had just told her.

"Mhm. Richard and I are going through a rough patch right now. So are you and Derek. He just needs a little time with Meredith Grey to realize that you two are made for one another. She's a nice girl, but she's over ten years younger than him. You're perfect together."

"That's, uh, wow. Thanks for that."

Adele seemed to be on a roll, and didn't even hear her. Addison knew she and Richard had always approved of her marriage to Derek, but she didn't know the approval was so deeply-seated. "When you're with someone for so long, you don't just give up on them," she finally concluded.

"Even through adultery?" she said in a tiny voice.

"Even through adultery. You know Richard had an affair with Meredith's mother? We worked past that. So will you. Divorce is only a little thing, honey."

"I do want to be with Derek, Adele. I really do, mostly because I'm having his baby, but still… He's Derek. I can't be with him. Part of me doesn't want to, and I'm sure all of him doesn't want me."

"I understand completely. And if he's not worth fighting for, don't fight. You don't need any man to raise a baby. My momma did it just fine."

"Yeah. I guess you're right." She paused. "Thank you, Adele. I really needed this."

"I'm here anytime you need me, sweetie. Goodbye."

"'Bye."

Addison clamped her eyelids together. She was going to get past this. Without Derek. Without Mark. Without anyone.

-----

**A/N:** As always, review. Review and I will answer any questions you might have. As long as they don't regard which ships will prevail. ;-)


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** I am well aware of my suckage. Trust me, I know full and well the amount of time that has lapsed since I last posted a chapter. But hopefully, they will be BETTER this time because I've taken a year off to, ya know, hone my skills and stuff, right? Anyway, this story will continue as A/U for everything that's happened since the beginning of season three (that means anything after around, say, 3.2 did not occur within this fic's time frame.)

And don't worry too much, I fully intend to complete this story ... eventually, lol. But seriously, hopefully before September. That is what I'm shooting for. I have the outline all the way up to the end of the epilogue, so please have faith, even though I've let you down before.

Anyway—on to what matters!

--

Addison's strength had greatly increased since her brief—but uplifting—chat with Adele. It had been a week or two since then (she wasn't even counting anymore, she'd noticed), and even longer since she'd slept next to Mark in her pajamas. However, that didn't matter. She was confident. She was Addison Montgomery, and Addison Montgomery was definitely _not_ weak, which was how she had been behaving recently. So when Derek caught up to her in the hallway doing his awkward version of small talk, she was more than prepared.

"Addison," he said breathlessly, as though he had been purposefully seeking her out.

"Derek," she returned, flashing him a wry smile.

He cocked his head to the side and smiled. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Oh, his _charm_. It was such an annoying characteristic simply because he knew how charming he was. Ironically, that had been just what had drawn her—and every other female he came into contact with—to him.

"Because you keep coming up to me in hallways like you have something to say, and you never do. What could you possibly have to say now?"

He lifted his eyebrows and his mouth formed a decided "_o_" shape. That was always the face he made when he knew not to mess with her. "Nothing. Just saying hello. Keeping it casual, you know." And with that he smiled wide and walked off in the same direction he had come from.

Things like that made Addison's head spin, but she'd decided not to let it show anymore. She was going to ooze confidence. Especially now that Derek and Meredith were back together—probably for good—she had no business with him, or worrying about his affairs anymore. The baby would be no one's business but hers. Screw Derek—and Mark, too, for that matter. Neither of them deserved her and...

Great, she was feeling lightheaded now. Addison surreptitiously slid into the nearest supply closet and before she could close the door, a strong male hand caught it.

"I was looking for you," said the owner of the hand—Mark Sloan.

She gave him a slight glare; her head wasn't up for the whole thing. "You and everyone else."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as he sat down beside her heavily—_without_ her permission, she noted with a cringe.

Ignoring his question she said, "Normally I'd ask what you want, but I'm really not in the mood for caring right now."

"Ouch," he said, actually looking hurt—when had he become so sensitive? "Listen, Addie, please." He was clearly not giving her the choice, especially since he was closest to the door and thus able to stop her leaving. "Thank you. What I really wanted to say to you is that I want to be with—"

"Mark..." she warned, the subject not being one she wanted to consider currently.

"Ah, no. I'm serious." He seemed uncomfortable for a moment as he fixed his eyes intensely on the ground. "Back in New York ... things weren't great for us. I screwed up what we had and ..." he shook his head, "...I honestly regret that. You were the best thing to happen to me, Addie. I know I'm an immature ass, but please—" he then raised his gaze to her eyes, which were threatening to fill with tears, "—give me this last chance."

She really wanted to say yes. She wanted to dive into his arms right there, on the floor of the supply closet, to let bygones be bygones, and all that. But she knew she couldn't—that she very well _shouldn't_. Mark had never been good news. She had probably made a huge mistake by inviting him back into her life. She couldn't make that mistake again. She had to be more mature, to be the mother she knew she had to be, what Adele said she could be. She had to cut Mark loose before things became worse.

"I'm sorry." Her words were barely audible, coming out in a single breath. "I can't do that, Mark. I need to just concentrate on me and my ... my baby." The words still seemed so foreign, like something she'd say to a patient that never had much meaning until now.

He looked confused. She had expected more. "Addie ... you can't want that. I grew up without a father, and look at me. I'm a _mess_. Your baby needs a father, and if Derek won't do it, _let me_."

She shook her head, unable to believe he was so tenacious. "I said no, Mark, and I was trying to be nice because I don't want to hurt you. So please leave me alone." She made to get up but he held out an arm above her lap to stop her.

"Addison. You're not thinking. I thought you of all people would have the responsibility to know that being a single parent—and a _surgeon_, no less—would be too difficult to handle. It's hard. You need help. It's irresponsible to—"

He'd struck a nerve by now, "Don't you _dare_ tell me what I should or shouldn't do. I get that you're fucked up, but I'm not your mommy or your daddy, and I plan on actually being there for my baby. Not the half-ass job your parents did." She didn't even pause for a subject change, "And who are _you_ to call _me_ irresponsible? You, who's had—what's the count now?--two, three venereal diseases? Who has ruined every relationship with potential since the age of fourteen? You're the most irresponsible person I've ever met, you hypocrite!"

She was livid by that point, and he speechless.

"I'm going to Joe's," he said simply, leaving Addison to sit alone.

She leaned her head back and shut her eyes. She was going to stay strong, that's what she was going to do. Still, did Mark really deserve to hear what she had said? He was only wanting to help, and had judged her responsibility in the heat of the moment. It wasn't his fault, really. She perhaps shouldn't have said such to him. And what if he was meeting Meredith? It was the end of the day, and she was probably just getting off, if she wasn't on call. No, she was with Derek again, that was right. Derek and his slutty intern, who was actually _really nice_, were together and they would probably be so for a long time. And Mark was alone. Oh God. Was she caring? Had some semblance of compassion overcome her in her prenatal state?

"Dr. Shepherd?"

She hadn't even noticed Alex Karev open the door to her closet. "Sorry, Dr._ Montgomery_." She didn't care that he was being sarcastic. He shut the door behind him.

"What is it, Karev?" She liked him, actually. He put a show, but she could see through it. He reminded her of a young, less charismatic version of Mark.

He sighed. "Look. I don't do this whole gynie thing. I don't do feelings or emotions or any worthless crap like that. But if it affects me and what I do for a living, I have to say something." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you okay?"

She laughed, surprising herself and him, too, apparently. "I really don't know anymore." She couldn't believe she'd said that as soon as it crossed her lips. Figuring that was enough before she starting telling her life story to an intern, she stood up, suddenly feeling her strength returning.

"Thanks, Karev." She smiled and flattened her skirt and coat.

"Right," he said, apparently not getting it. "You know we have a surgery scheduled in like half an hour, right?"

"Of course. I was just ... resting my feet." She knew it was a weak excuse.

"I don't care what you were doing, Dr. Montgomery," he said callously as they exited the supply closet.

Addison didn't think to look if other people might have been watching this occur—she, the attending, leaving the slutty supply closet with a foul-mouthed intern with a reputation for seducing his coworkers.

--

**A/N:** I know that was a little filler-y and that you all deserve so much better for the wait, but I'm trying to stick to the outline as best I can so nothing gets fouled up. So this is what you get for now. Hope you all enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

Addison was lying on her hotel bed with a head full of problems. According to the cheap luminous clock on her nightstand, it was approaching two a.m., and though she had been awake since almost the same time that morning, there was no sign of sleep coming on. She thought of Mark, of Derek, of Meredith, her parents, even. However, she could not even force her thoughts in the direction of her child. That alone made her insurmountably depressed. What sort of mother would she be, if she couldn't even bother thinking about her unborn son or daughter even before birth? Was she really even making the right choice in warding off all men? Adele was a wise woman, but she had also been the victim of adultery, never had children, and currently, her decades-long marriage was deteriorating at warp speed.

Great, Star Trek jokes. Her brain was making_ Star Trek jokes_. She wondered with disgust what was wrong with her. Why did she have no willpower when it came to the men in her life? Sometimes she even caught a vibe from Alex Karev, and she couldn't say it had been the most revolting feeling she had ever experienced. It was pathetic. She was known for her staunch leadership skills, her ability to immaculately inform a patient the bump under their breast was end-stage cancer. So why would her stupid brain not stop imagining Mark Sloan in the nude?It was as though being pregnant had caused her to lose all ability to think like the intelligent, erect-standing human she was. Instead, all of that intelligence seemed to be focused on—

Her phone rang.

At two in the morning, her phone was ringing.

That could only mean one thing: her pager battery had died and they were calling her in early, even though it didn't really seem "early" to Addison, but rather like she'd just gotten home. But perhaps that would be a good thing. It could take her mind off of naked men and _how_ to get them out of her mind. She rolled over on the overly-thick comforter to grab her chirping, vibrating, and blinking Blackberry off of the nightstand. It fell, of course. Heaving a sigh, she bent over the edge of the bed and quickly snapped it up, pressing the "talk" button before glancing at the screen.

"Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd," she said, the habit still unbroken.

"Shepherd?" responded a nauseatingly familiar voice.

"Derek." Her back stiffened immediately; there was something about his tone that put her on alert. "What's going on?" She couldn't think of a single reason he should be calling her in the middle of the night unless there was a case—and that didn't seem likely—or her luck.

"Why should something be going on?" he asked, actually sounding confused.

She sighed audibly once again. "Because, Derek, when two people file for divorce, that usually entails no more phone calls at two in the morning _just to chat_."

"That's stupid," he said, enunciating each syllable with aggravation—much as would a four-year-old. "Who said I just wanted to chat, anyway?"

Addison rolled her eyes in frustration. Why did things like this have to occur? Her recently-exed husband and father of her unborn child was calling her in the middle of the night when he was _supposed_ to have a girlfriend, didn't know about said unborn child, and was very clearly drunk. "Derek. Go to sleep."

"_No_," he said in an incredulous—but firm—tone.

"You have a shift in the morning. Plus, I have nothing to say to you."

"Addie, I'm fine. Really." Suddenly, he sounded sober. Perfect; it was much easier to forgive a drunken Derek. Far simpler to just brush him off or hang up the phone. But a Derek who knew what he was saying was a dangerous Derek, and she wanted no part of it. Except that she _completely_ did.

"Then go talk to Meredith."

"Meredith and I aren't really, you know, technically, together, and—"

"Derek," she dead-panned, cutting him off.

"Yeah?"

"_I don't care_."

"About what?"

A strangled grunt of frustration narrowly escaped her lips. "About _you_ and about _Meredith_ and about whether she thinks you're sleeping with your _sister_. About any of it! I don't care! You shouldn't even be talking to me, we are officially none of one another's business. Do you not understand that?" The last few words came out weakly, almost a whisper. Sometimes, it was so difficult being the "tough" one.

"I didn't want to talk about Meredith. It's about something ... something a little more important." His tone was laced with distraction, as if he really might have something to say to her.

Then fear flooded her gut at the same instant realization hit her across the cheek. What if he knew? What if Mark had told him? Would Derek have even listened? What if Nancy had told? She was back in New York, but that wouldn't have stopped her from trying to manipulate the situation so that Derek would come crawling back. For that matter, it could have been Richard or Adele, or even Joe the bartender who had nothing to do with _anything_...

"Addison...?" The sound of her name being slurred brought her attention back to where she _really_ didn't want it to be.

"What is it, Derek? What's so important?"

She heard him laugh—completely mirthless and possibly even a little scared. "I don't know..." His hesitation only fueled her irritation; Derek was so hesitant in situations such as these unless he was drunk.

"You're..."

She waited with bated breath for him to find the words she knew he was going to say next.

"You're," he repeated, but a little more confident this time, "_everything_. I can't stand it. I was okay, you know, when you were in New York because I could just pretend you never existed, and that was a good way to be for a while, pretending." She could feel a ramble blowing in from his side of the conversation, and even though it wasn't what she thought he would say, it was still not very easy territory to tread. "I had Meredith, and _I love her_ more than I could even ... even _begin_ to define. She's wonderful, she really is. I mean it, too. She apologized for the whole thinking I was sleeping with my sister thing, and what did I do? I told her I needed some time to think about thinks. And she was perfectly okay with that. She's great, honestly, but you're just everything. We were so perfect together, and I guess I must have just ... I don't know, forgotten that? But the truth is, seeing you around every day, knowing you're with ... with _Mark ... _it makes it all so _difficult_. I just can't function properly without you."

She didn't know how to respond, so she let instincts take over. "No you don't, Derek. _No you don't_. What right do you have to be upset? You left _me _in the first place, and I was totally devastated. Then you left Meredith for me, and I know she felt the same way. Now you're doing it all over again. Is this some cycle you just _long_ to spend the rest of your life repeating? I'm not going to play monkey in the middle with you anymore. I'm sick of it. And she ... she deserves better from you, too. So how about you _grow up_ and go back to her before she realizes that she doesn't have to wait around for you."

"Addie, I'm sorry, it's just ... I don't know, really, what it is. I don't ... _love_ you anymore, you know. I just miss you."

"Meredith loves you," she said before anything embarrassing and potentially lethal came out of her mouth. "Go back to her and be happy together. You don't need me."

"I was happy with you..."

"No you weren't, Derek; you have to know that. Don't you remember how we were? The last three years of our time in New York we were never together—and even when we were, we never really _saw_ one another. We didn't need each other anymore. We simply weren't compatible—not as a couple. I've seen the way you look at Meredith. What I wouldn't _give_ to have had you look at me that way a year ago... Trust me, you're better off with her. She's good to you, and you deserve each other. Seriously," she added when he made a scoffing noise, like he didn't believe that she thought that.

There was a very pregnant pause in which she waited for his response, hoping he was spending the silence mulling over what she said, that realization was dawning on him.

"Addie," he said slowly, soberly, even, "I don't care how we _were_. I miss you now. But if that is your answer, then that's your answer and I see that there is nothing I can do to change that." His words were final, but his tone suggested that she was still free to reconsider her statements.

"You're very right," she said definitely. But she paused before saying more, wondering if now, while no one was around would be a good time to tell him about the baby. She decided quickly that it was not. He shouldn't be drunk or on the phone, and it definitely shouldn't be done while he was trying to talk her into coming back to him.

"Okay," he said softly, clearly reverting back to McDreamy—back to the Derek of Seattle who loved trees, flannel, and Meredith Grey. "Have a good night, Addison."

"Good night Derek."

But what they really meant was "have a good life."

--

**A/N:** It feels _so great_ to be finishing this story. Well, working toward finishing it. It should stand at about 25 or so chapters when it's all said and done. I hoped everyone like this chapter, and don't forget to review!


	13. Chapter 13

The days dragged on and on after her final and bone-chilling conversation with Derek. She got up in the mornings, got dressed—being sure to take all her prenatal vitamins and never drinking coffee. Then she would go to work, where she could feel eyes on the back of her head at all times. Perhaps from Derek or Mark, maybe even from Alex Karev—whom she had a sneaking suspicion might have a bit of an infatuation underneath his rugged tough-guy facade. That was sad, really. Karev had the reputation of being the most immature person on the surgical wing; yet Derek and Mark were the ones dancing around her like stray dogs. Then she would float mechanically through her surgeries, knowing precisely what to do—and executing whatever the procedure was in a robotic manner. It wasn't that she was _uninterested_, but more that she believed she had bigger things to worry about. Even when someone else's life and thus her own career were on the line. After a day full of surgeries such as that, she would go directly to the hotel and stare at the ceiling for the longest time, pick up the phone, dial either Mark's or Derek's number, get to the last digit, and clear it all out. This might go on for _hours_. In the end, she would scrounge whatever food she could from the mini fridge, hit up the deli vending machine down the hall—never going into the hotel's restaurant just from lack of interest. By the time she had eaten the bland turkey sub, it was well after midnight. And she would always fall into the most uneasy sleep she had ever had.

This pattern couldn't be healthy. Not to mention she hadn't had a full day off in a while. So today, she decided that perhaps she deserved one. So far, she mused, Adele's advice to cut both Mark and Derek out of her life had been the best she had received. And Addison truly believed that she was doing really well. But sometimes, the frustration was _unbearable_. She would almost physically need just the simple presence of a male.

Today, unfortunately, was one of those days. And the main reason she took time off from Seattle Grace. As she laid in bed, taking in all the patterns on the ornate ceiling, she wished more than almost_ anything_ that she could have just a little bit of alcohol. Just enough to get her through today. But no, she couldn't take pleasure in such activities as binge-drinking or triple-shots of espresso from Starbucks. She just _had _to let Derek Shepherd stick his...

She wrinkled her nose, trying very hard to force him out of his mind before he got the opportunity to make himself at home.

For the first time in a good while, she was absolutely _mortified_ at the thought of what her parents would say. They were strict, uptight, old-fashioned. Yet, here she was, not only divorced and with another man (was she with with another man? She hadn't talked to Mark in a while...), but pregnant with a baby very narrowly avoiding the "illegitimate" line.

But that could easily be remedied if she let either Mark _or_ Derek into her life. Mark would offer to be the father, and she was sure he'd marry her... But then there was Derek, with whom she didn't have to worry about anything. It wouldn't matter to her parents if it had been "out of wedlock" then—even though it _hadn't _in the first place. Derek was wonderful husband material—he even enjoyed hunting with her father. (Though the fishing, Addison mused, neither man had every been partial to until Derek moved to Seattle. Would her father like fishing? She didn't know.) So to Mr. And Mrs. Montgomery, she was now positive, it wouldn't matter as long as her baby was Derek's, which it so undoubtedly was. Maybe she could wait, and that would be classy enough, to see how things go with Meredith...

Her brow creased in dislike. She really needed to concentrate her mind elsewhere than on her exes.

This hotel business was a horrible affair. It was the nicest one in town, and thus very pretty and well-kept, but it just wasn't home. Nothing seemed like home anymore. The brownstone in New York didn't, then Derek's trailer didn't. And now this stupid hotel, which she had spent the past—what was the count now? Three months—in, was not doing much better. It worried her, the fact that she had such a budget at her fingertips, and yet didn't even have a home. Throw into that mix the fact that she was about to have a baby, and it made for one pathetic story. She was so honestly _sick_ of feeling pathetic.

So she did what anyone would do with a day off: she house-hunted on the internet. She didn't care to buy new belongings, and unfortunately for her, there were very few decent homes in the Seattle area that came fully furnished. But in the end she did find one.

It was a large, Victorian home with four bedrooms, a den, a library, full dining and breakfast... the works. The furniture was sub par in comparison, but definitely better than what she was dealing with. It was in the middle of nowhere, but was blacktopped all the way, and just close enough to things so that if she wanted to (which she _didn't_ anymore, oddly) get out into the city for shopping and the like, she could with ease. Derek would like it—as if that even mattered to anything anymore. And the best part was that she practically had the money to buy it on the spot.

Which she did.

--

Addison returned to work the next day in comparatively high spirits. Her house was already ready to be slept in, as it had furniture. Especially with the down payment that she made—the former owners didn't have a single negative response to anything she might have asked.

There was a slight commotion before the front desk of the surgical wing. Or perhaps "slight" was not the correct word.

"I don't know where _you_ get off, Derek!" Meredith was nearly shouting, clearly trying very hard to control the volume of her voice.

"I know, I'm sorry..." Derek's tone was defenseless, filled to the brim with surrender, but Meredith cut him off quickly.

"Do you _seriously_ believe that I care?" She stopped just long enough to glare and fill her lungs. "You just _keep_ hurting me, and hurting me, and hurting me. I'm _so_ sick of it. I just..."

"Meredith," his voice was rising to the point of warning. "Not here, okay? Not here." He glanced around nervously at the faces pretending not to stare in their direction. His eyes landed on Addison's, and she nearly lost the ability to hold herself upright: the look he had was one she didn't see much, one of failure, of frustration. It was _pathetic_, which Derek Shepherd never admitted to being.

Meredith caught his gaze, and Addison didn't even register it when Meredith took one look at her, turned back to Derek—whose eyes didn't leave her face—and then shook her head.

"See?" Meredith said, her voice as defeated as the look in Derek's eyes.

He finally looked away after what seemed an eternity, but had only been a couple of seconds. "I know," was all he said before he turned to march up the stairs without sparing another look at either woman.

Meredith and Addison stood frozen, separated by several yards, though to Addison it seemed that she was so close to her she could feel the heat radiating from her body. She ruled that that sensation was probably the rage that Meredith obviously was feeling.

Addison moved away quickly, being sure to go the opposite direction of the other woman. She wondered as she did the morning rounds what Derek had done. Did he remember calling her? She didn't know—he hadn't spoken to her sense then. But that _look_ ... that was almost enough to make up for not having heard his voice in so long...

She entered a room which contained the mother-to-be of triplets. Currently, the woman was sleeping heavily. Judging by her chart, she was actually sedated. She was Mark's, Derek's, and Callie's patient too, and the main reasons she was in the hospital to begin with. She'd been involved in a nasty car accident a week prior, breaking several bones and receiving a lot of nasty burns. Mark was there to graft her skin, Callie to repair the bones, Derek to assist Callie in repairs to her spinal column, and Addison herself to ensure the health of her unborn children. She had no partner to help her through the ordeal—he had left her shortly into her pregnancy, she'd told them without regret or any trace of pain. And Addison greatly admired that.

She was nearly finished recording the triplets' vitals when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she said, expecting a nurse.

"Oh, hey."

She turned around and smiled her best detached smile. "Hello, Mark. I was just finishing up here, and she's all yours..."

"Take your time."

She didn't quite feel the need to go so far as to take her time in her attempt to tolerate Mark. He hadn't brought anything up since they had exploded on each other in the supply closet some weeks ago. His behavior had been strictly professional for once, and Addison hoped he would keep it that way. He was so much easier to resist when he wasn't _trying_. Or at least that's what she told herself. As long as she did that, then there really _was_ a way to resist him.

Addison stood to leave but Mark sidestepped in front of the door. She felt something like fear and anger swell inside her. "I have things to do."

"I figured," said Mark, a slow, apprehensive smile creeping across his face.

"I seriously don't want to talk to you right now." _Or ever_.

"I know, Addie." His voice was taking on that uncharacteristic-but-very-charming soft, understanding, cautious tone he had developed over the past six months. "I just thought you should know. Derek and Meredith weren't arguing over _me_ this morning. I know that what you were thinking. And..." He paused, looking unsure. "I have a _date_."

"With who?" she asked before she could stop herself. Mark didn't have dates; Mark had women he periodically slept with. He _never_ called whatever outing he had to agree to a "date."

He smirked at her interest, clearly thinking he meant more to her than she hoped he did...

"Izzie Stevens."

This surprised her. For one, Stevens seemed more intelligent than to go for Mark. Second, Mark never dated anyone. Third, didn't Karev say he was working things out with her not too long ago? And fourth ... well, none of it added up. It just didn't make any sense to Addison whatsoever. Maybe he was pulling the wool over her eyes? Just the way he was trying to do Addison.

"Fantastic," she deadpanned in what she personally thought was a convincing manner. "I don't care." The smirk left his face as she pushed past him and on to her next assignment.

--

**A/N:** Here's the deal. Ten reviews and I'll update. It took twelve days to get THREE this time. I know it's a bitch move, but seriously guys. I need motivation, and I barely got any this past chapter. Help me out.


	14. Chapter 14

Perhaps purchasing the home of her dreams (or was it from someone else's?) had been an action taken in vain in the hopes of obtaining some form of comfort. While the whole process from decision to transaction had occurred on nothing more than a spur of the moment, it had thoroughly seemed like one of Addison Montgomery's greater ideas. But upon awakening at five a.m. from a crap night's sleep, she realized that perhaps the idea of purchasing a barren Victorian home in The Middle of Nowhere, Washington, ranked somewhere just ahead of having an extra-marital affair with Mark Sloan.

Or was that a good idea? She could never make up her mind in regards to that one horrid—or was it wonderful?—night they had (almost) spent together before… She would be sick if she kept that train of thought up. Normally she tried to block out all thoughts of That Night and the look on Derek's face, his actions afterward, and all the problems it had caused everyone involved. But the house, beautiful and perfect thought it seemed, gave her an eerie feeling, and atop hormones with already rapidly fluctuating levels, it simply wasn't right.

The place was nice, granted, but its size in relation to the one completely alone individual occupying it was enough to send Addison into terrifying flashbacks of childhood stories involving women locked away in castles, only to be rescued by her true love. Those stories were such nonsense. What exactly was a true love? No one had ever really rescued Addison from anything. She seemed to have always been looking out for herself, and often for those around her, too.

For a while, she had genuinely believed Derek Shepherd was her One True Love, her knight in the cliché shining armor (wouldn't any good knight have scuffed and burnt armor, as a mark toward his bravery, anyway?). She believed that because the two of them both enjoyed songs like "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys, classic films featuring the most deadly of femme fatales, and scrubbing in for surgery, that they were "meant to be." But what did that even mean? Maybe she was meant to be with Mark all this time. After all, the sex was great; he listened to her problems and even offered advice; and he had in earnest offered to raise the child she had conceived by the guy in whose wedding he had been best man. Maybe every mistake she had made with or for Derek had been just a tiny footstep in the right direction, the direction of a slutty best friend and shoulder to cry on. Maybe he was the happy ending to a terrible start.

Or maybe they were both mistakes and neither of them mattered at all.

It was then that the tears came. Half-laughing, half-crying, Addison wrapped herself around an oversized down pillow, clutching it to her body like a life preserver. This fit lasted for several minutes before the tumultuous actions calmed to mere pitiable hiccoughing.

She rolled over onto her back with an angry glare towards the ceiling. "I hate you, Derek Shepherd." She spoke as if she were cursing him to the nethermost regions of hell. It _was_ his fault, she reminded herself with a heavy sigh. Here she was, alone in a huge, cold house, and five months along with the child of a man who didn't want her. Not that she would ever be with him again even if he _did_ want her, of course.

Yet, he still didn't know anything about a pregnancy. He hadn't noticed her slight belly bump. In fact, nobody had. Maybe they all just assumed she had fallen into a pit of despair after he chose Meredith over her, and had thusly accumulated a few extra pounds. _Ugh_. Addison Montgomery most certainly did not gain weight, and she was not in a pit of despair. Or at least not for the reasons everyone probably thought she was.

She had to tell Derek the truth soon, she knew that. Everyone who knew acted like she didn't understand that Derek should know she was pregnant. She agreed on all fronts that he at least deserved to know that. But what good would come from telling him that it had indeed been his doing, from one of their admittedly miserable sex sessions while they were still trying to make things work? She couldn't think of anything. He would probably hate her, and the baby, for giving Meredith and him even more complications in their already oh-so-dramatic-and-complicated relationship.

But at the same time, what good would Mark be to her? Sure, he loved her. She could allow herself to believe that much. But beyond that, he was still a horndog who was probably trying to woo Meredith Grey, or Izzie Stevens—or any and all other females in the hospital. The fact remained that he could not be trusted with another human life when his own was still in such disarray commonly found in college students, and certainly not in men approaching forty years of age.

Addison sighed again, but this time found the energy to clamber out of bed. Today she was twenty weeks pregnant, and she had an OB appointment first thing. She pulled on her robe, noticing when it came across tighter than she remembered. It hardly fit anymore. She had so far been lucky in that she was still hardly showing, especially when she donned her scrubs and lab jacket. To the best of her knowledge, no one knew that should not know.

As she stretched and yawned, she felt a sharp pain in her abdomen. It didn't last long, but almost sent her double. She shook it off, knowing it was nothing. That had been occurring lately, and not quite infrequently. Still, she figured it may be best to call … _someone_ to drive her to the appointment.

She dialed Mark's number, but received only his annoying outgoing message. He had probably spent the night with Meredith and turned his phone off so they wouldn't be caught. That would be just like him. That thought alone made her unwilling to bother with his pager. But who else did she have? Derek? _Right._ That would be a good way to let an ex-husband know he was a soon-to-be father, by inviting him to a fifth-month OB appointment. Bad idea. Of course, there was one person who would jump at the chance to please her. In fact, that was his job.

After only a couple of rings, he mercifully picked up. She heard him clear his throat and then groggily croak into the phone, "Karev."

"Hi, Alex it's Dr. Montgomery-Shep … Dr. Montgomery."

"Is my pager dead?" He didn't sound very happy at being awoken at six a.m. on a day when he wasn't due in until noon.

Realizing she had probably disrupted the sleep coveted by interns, Addison decided to be as polite as possible. After all, he had to listen to her while in the O.R., but their personal lives were another matter. "I'm sorry to wake you up so early, Dr. Karev. I just … have a favor to ask, if you wouldn't mind."

He was silent for a moment, and Addison was afraid he would decline before hearing the request. But instead, "Uh, sure. What's up?"

"I have an appointment to go to and I need someone to drive me." Addison wasn't much for beating around the bush.

"An appointment? What kind of appointment? Why can't you drive yourself?"

She had honestly not anticipated any questions. Alex Karev was a no-questions kind of person usually. "With an OB."

"Oh, a consult, right? Okay."

Addison could tell he didn't fully believe her. Why should he? "Not exactly. You see…"

While she struggled to find the words, Karev interjected: "You're knocked up, huh?"

"That's completely inappropriate."

She could almost hear his smug smirk as he countered, "But true. Am I right?"

Through gritted teeth she confirmed that "Yes, Karev, I'm 'knocked up' or … whatever."

"I knew it. Sloan's or Shepherd's? Sloan's, right?" This time, she was _sure_ she could hear the smirk.

"That much is none of your business. Can you take me, or am I wasting my time here?"

"Yeah, whatever, I'll take you. Give me an hour." And without a goodbye of any sort, his phone clicked shut in Addison's ear.

--

Dr. Chris Stacy greeted her the same way he had for the past five months: with a large smile and a brotherly hug. "Still no Derek? Tell him to get his ass in here! Deadbeat." He winked at the last word, as if Derek were the total opposite of a deadbeat. Addison had to remind herself that he _wasn't_ a deadbeat, he just didn't know. "If you're ready, you can come on back."

"I don't have to go back there, do I?" Karev was standing behind her, looking a little confused but mostly repulsed.

Addison shrugged. "It's up to you." Though secretly, she very much wanted someone with her. She was _so_ tired of feeling alone.

Karev must have seen it in her face because he agreed.

"Now, who's this?" Chris asked, looking him up and down with obvious suspicion.

"This is Alex Karev. He's … my nephew." _My nephew?!_ she immediately thought. Where had that come from?

"Isn't your brother younger than you?"

"It's complicated." At least that much was the truth.

Once inside the room, Addison followed the same procedures for an ultrasound as she had before, but this time, it was important.

After a few moments of probing around, the image of her baby filled the screen. Addison felt her heart drop to her stomach at the site of it. This time, she had come to know the sex. And there it was.

"So you're having a boy, uh, _Aunt Addie?_" Karev grinned maliciously.

"I guess so…" she responded, though the words were robotic. Her mind was elsewhere. She was carrying a boy, a son. Derek's son. A son to carry on the Shepherd legacy, something Derek had wanted when they had been happily married. Something his mother had wanted. Something Addison herself had wanted, but had never made the time to have. And now it was being thrust upon her, and she had to make the decision to tell him.

All thoughts of the pain she had experienced earlier had left her as reality crept in.

"You tell Shep I want to see him soon, alright?" Chris's voice seemed to echo down a tunnel as she gathered her belongings to leave.

"Will do." She forced a smile.

"Take care of your aunt, she's a good lady," he called after Karev as they exited the room.

"I'll keep that in mind." Sarcasm dripped from every syllable, but Chris seemed not to notice.

--

"You should consider taking some time off." Addison turned around to see, of course, Mark catching up with her outside the lounge.

"Why should I do that?"

"Because you look like a whale." He smiled his characteristic broad smile.

"No I don't!" She insisted, then frowned, peering down at her belly. "Do you think so?"

"You're really starting to show," he confessed.

"Could you not speak maybe a little _quieter_?"

"_Sorry_," he whispered, grinning. "_You should take some time off_."

"No."

"It's just a suggestion, don't get hostile." He threw up his hands in mock-defense.

"I'm having a boy," she blurted.

"That's great! Great news. Any names picked out yet?"

"I like Sebastian," she mused.

"Like Derek's grandfather?" He raised his eyebrows.

She glared, though Mark had done nothing wrong. She had walked right into that one. "Why am I talking to you?"

Smirk. "Because you are subconsciously madly in love with me," he stated matter-of-factly.

"You're repulsive."

He leaned closer to her. "Funny how you say that, but your actions completely contradict it all." He straightened up and pretended to compose himself. "Guess who has a second date with Izzie Stevens tonight?"

"I don't care." About that much she was truthful. She had grown quite fond of Alex Karev and didn't want Mark fouling things up for him, too.

"Harsh."

"I have a surgery," she stated with finality, and continued in the direction she had been going.

--

**A/N:** So this was a long and probably surprising chapter. Who expected to see an update? Lol. I said I'd finish it, and I _will_.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Thanks for sticking with it last chapter. Hopefully from here on out things will begin to get a bit more interesting.

Addison's next few days in her home were only marginally better than the first. She had been avoiding Derek like the plague, though Mark never seemed too far out of sight. It was beginning to become slightly creepy. The baby inside of her wiggled, kicked, and punched. She couldn't blame him for any of it; she would be angry at the situation too.

In fact, she had only just begun to drift back to sleep after having her unborn son kick her bladder resulting in an emergency trip to the toilet, when her cell phone rang. As it was three in the morning, she had no idea who to expect and didn't bother checking to see who it was.

"Addison Montgomery," she said reflexively. It had taken a lot of practicing, but she had finally managed to drop the "Shepherd."

"Addie," said a horribly familiar, soft voice on the other end.

She was suddenly very awake; _like father like son_, she mused. "Derek. Another life-or-death emergency, I assume?"

"What are you talking about?" He chuckled, as if she were a silly little thing who said silly little things that made no sense. Which she most definitely was not and did not do.

"Never mind. What is it?"

"Why are you always like that?"

"Like what?"

"Bitter, cynical, angry. Are you okay?"

Before she could stop it, a laugh which managed to embody all of those things escaped her lips. Was he seriously asking her that question? "I'm perfect Derek, how are you?"

He sighed heavily, and she prepared herself for whatever drama he was about to unload. "Meredith and I are having problems."

"I couldn't have guessed."

Ignoring her sarcasm he pressed on, "I know we've been arguing a lot lately, and I'm sure everyone at Seattle Grace has heard it. But she's decided we need a break. What does that even mean?" He truly sounded bewildered. "What's a 'break?' What's the point in that? I don't understand you people and your logic."

"'You people?' Who is 'you people?'"

"Women, who else?"

"Right. Why did she dump you?"

"She didn't dump me, we're on a break."

"What_ever_, Derek, what happened?"

"Oh." It wasn't like him to be so absent-minded in his speech. He was a very articulate speaker, something she loved about him. Not that she loved him anymore; it was a trait she, of course, _had_ loved. "She said I couldn't stop comparing her … to you."

Addison rolled her eyes. "Did you tell her that's only natural, since we were married for over eleven years? That maybe you need some time to adjust?"

"Of course, but…" He trailed off into another sigh.

"So why did you find it necessary to call me at three a.m. to tell me this? How does this affect me?"

"Oh yes. Because I wanted to ask you out." His voice oozed with the charisma she had fallen in love with. "Not 'on a date' or what have you, just to dinner. It'll be fun; we can practice our _civility_." He chuckled softly at his own stupid joke.

"I'm not going out with you." _Not for lack of wanting._

"Just to dinner. Come on."

"Why did you have to call me at three a.m. for this?"

"I couldn't sleep, and I just had a hunch you'd be awake," he said simply. "So, will you come?"

She sighed, weighing her options. Maybe this would provide her with the appropriate setting to break the news. "Alright. But—just dinner, and just as friends."

"Deal."

Why had she agreed to this?

--

"So," said Derek with a strangely happy smile on his face, "tell me. What's new with you?"

Addison quirked an eyebrow at him from across the table. "I bought a house." No diversion, it was true; the purchase of her home had been the latest thing she had done. Pregnancy had definitely occurred _before_ that.

"Really? Where at? Tell me about it." He leaned in, crossing his hands atop the table, a sparkle in his eye she hadn't seen in a long time.

"You're far too eager, Derek Shepherd, what's your deal?"

His brow creased. "Nothing. I'm just glad we can do this."

She nodded in agreement. Underneath her pent-up anger towards him, Addison was very glad for Derek's company. She had missed—no, craved it for longer than she could remember. The fact that he had asked her somewhere meant more to her than she could ever possibly let him know.

"So, the house…" he pressed.

"It's on the edge of town, kind of secluded. It's an old Victorian someone had remodeled. It's nice. Four bedrooms, lots of land. Good view of a little pond."

"Oh, you have a pond, do you?" He seemed amused by the thought of Addison Montgomery with a pond.

"It's not funny, Derek, it's nice. It's a nice pond."

"I should come by, to make sure it's as nice as you claim."

"Don't bother, it is."

"Someone is full of pond arrogance."

"You're ridiculous." She couldn't stop herself from smiling. A real smile, something she'd not had in a while. "So how's life, Dr. Shepherd?"

He lowered his eyes to the table and a small frown crept across his face, making him look much older than he was.

But he was saved by the waitress coming to take their drink orders. Derek asked for a scotch and a water, as he always did, and Addison simply a water.

"Have you joined the convent?" He asked with a playful grin as the waitress left the table.

"I'm afraid they wouldn't accept me…" She felt her stomach knotting up, and at that moment felt the baby land what could have only been a successful roundhouse kick on a vital organ. She clutched her belly, and Derek leaned forward, placing a concerned hand on her arm.

"Are you alright?"

"Just hungry," she managed, feigning a small smile.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, his brow wrinkling again as he leaned back to rest on the back of his chair, never taking his eyes from her. Addison could see the gears turning in his mind, and she wondered if he was catching on.

"Have you been speaking to Mark?" She meant to sound casual, but she saw Derek freeze for a moment.

"I haven't," he said curtly. Glancing down and then back up at her through his eyelashes, "Have you?"

"Izzie Stevens sure has," she said, purposefully dodging his question. She wasn't sure her odd and awkward interactions with Mark would count towards real conversations.

Derek took the bait, grinning, "What does that mean?"

"I think you know what that means."

"That he's been staying at Meredith's?"

Addison shook her head, looking away from him. "Do you honestly believe he's just out to get you or something? Seriously? Grow up, Derek. He and Stevens have been on a couple of dates, I didn't say they were living together."

"That's not what I—"

"I'm pregnant," she stated firmly before whatever he was about to say escalated to an argument.

His words hung in his mouth, but he leaned back again, his face completely unreadable. He sat there for what seemed an eternity, never breaking his gaze, as if searching her eyes for what must have been a lie.

"You're pregnant?" He finally said weakly.

The waitress came to the table with their drinks before she could answer, and Derek pointedly downed his scotch before the girl left the table, then asked for another.

"Well I'm certainly not a nun," she responded halfheartedly, trying to force a smile.

"Are you keeping it?" It was almost a demand.

"Of course, Derek, this is my only chance for a child."

"How far along?"

For a split second she wanted to tell the truth, but instead: "Nearly four months."

Derek nodded, but she still couldn't tell what was going on in his head. She didn't like that. Even when they had been at odds with one another, she could always tell what he was feeling. But this was very different from anything before. She couldn't read him at all.

"Are you happy?"

_No, of course not_. "I love my baby, if that's what you're asking."

Another nod, one she could tell had no feeling or meaning behind it. "Then I am happy for you. Let's have a toast." And just like that, he was back to the Derek Shepherd of ten minutes earlier.

Addison knew him well enough to know such behavior was not to be trusted. They finished their meal in near silence, though he still paid for everything and offered her his jacket when they exited the restaurant to a downpour. She didn't have to tell him he was the father; he probably didn't even suspect that. But nothing had really been resolved, and the real purpose for Derek's asking her out, if there had been one, she never found out.

**A/N:** Unforgivably short, I know. But hopefully the next chapter will be longer and more interesting. At least he knows now, eh?

Reviews are nice.


	16. Chapter 16

If Addison had believed letting Derek know she was pregnant would give her some sort of peace of mind, she now knew that was very much incorrect. When he dropped her off from their dinner date, he was obviously less than happy. She had handed him his jacket, which he took, and offered her a kiss on the cheek and a formal goodbye, complete with a forced cordial smile.

She had intended to spend the night working up to telling him he was going to be a father, not nervously sipping water as he stared from under his lashes. She could tell he was upset, anyone could have. But it was unlike anything she had ever experienced with him; the silence was stiff and cold; his mannerisms mechanical and unfeeling.

When she encountered him at the hospital the next morning, she couldn't tell anything had changed. He was standing in front of the board, but his eyes were unmoving. That was something he did; stare at the lists of surgeries with apparent interest, when in reality, he was using that time to clear his head. Addison didn't know if she would ever be able to forget about all of the quirks that made him who he was. Honestly, she didn't know if she wanted to.

His appearance though, was new to her. He clearly hadn't shaved—not that he made a regular habit of that anymore, anyway—and his overall form could be defined as disheveled and tired, bordering on haggard. If she were guessing, he looked like he had not been to sleep yet. And she wouldn't put it past him to have returned to the hospital after last night. Such had been a running theme in their marriage.

"Derek," she said in a careful, neutral tone.

"Hi." He turned to look at her, hands on hips and a strange, small smile on his face. "How are you?"

She offered him a friendly smile as she came to stand next to him. "Do you think we could talk? In private, maybe?"

He raised his eyebrows and gestured for her to lead. "Sure."

She located the nearest empty on-call room (which was quite a task at six-thirty in the morning), making sure no gossiping nurse or intern saw them go in together, lest they think the worst—which they would have done.

"You need to fix things with Meredith," she stated before anything else could get in the way.

Derek opened his mouth, no doubt to protest, but Addison silenced him with the raising of a hand. "I'm only going to say this to you once, Derek. You keep seeking my advice, well, here it is:

"Go back to her, because: she loves you. It's that simple. She loves you, you love her, she makes you happy. You just … _work_ together. If you can't see that, if you really have to question it…" She shook her head, but she wasn't finished. "You gambled everything for her. You put it all on the line, _you_ threw it all away. Now you have what you set out for. Take your winnings and be happy." She smiled. "There," she said as she sat down on the bed.

Derek took a seat beside her, but didn't say anything for a moment. Instead, he stared at the ground, looking hopeless. "You want me to be happy?" he started in a soft voice, his stormy blue eyes penetrating hers. "I want to be happy. It's not … it isn't like I put myself and you and Meredith and everyone else through hell because it's a fun game. I _want_ to be happy. But I can't, Addison, and do you have any idea why?" She knew the question to be rhetorical. "Because of you. I can't get my life together and focus on the things I want, the tangent world, the things I _need_, because you're here, in Seattle. You're here and I can't keep it together. It's unnerving, it's…" He bowed his head again, and she could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Meredith is … she's the best thing that's happened to me. She saved me. She believes in me, she adores me. And I think … I think she's absolutely wonderful. I've spent more time than I could even begin to count trying to put into words how I feel about her, but I can't. All I can say is that I love her."

He seemed finished, and, not knowing what to do, she placed a hand on his knee and offered him a sympathetic smile. What else could she do in such a situation? She certainly had no idea what to say to him.

"Are you suggesting I should leave?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Addison." He looked up at her with a consternated smile. So many facial expressions she had never seen... Maybe he truly had changed, and was no longer the Derek she fell in love with. Maybe he was this new, complex "McDreamy." Maybe … she didn't know him at all.

Before she knew what she was saying, "I miss you, Derek..." It was more an inner thought leaping from her mind to the open air, than anything she consciously meant to say to him.

Just as his eyes began to sparkle under the pathetic tears threatening to brim over, the door flung open with an exasperated, "Dr. Shep—?" It sounded as though the door-opener had been searching for him.

But when Meredith saw the scene before her eyes, she took a step back. Addison stood up to defend herself, but she couldn't find the right words to say, the words that would explain what they could have possibly been doing and talking about.

"Derek," snapped Meredith crisply.

"Meredith, listen, I—"

"I should have _known better._" She didn't seem to care to hear his response, but instead turned and walked away from the both of them.

Derek didn't spare another glance at Addison as he leapt off the bed to chase after her. It was a very typical scene. Derek was Meredith's lap dog. What she wanted, he did. When she was angry, it was only because he wasn't as trained to her ways as she would have liked. Addison admired that, if she were being perfectly honest with herself.

Derek would never be like that for her. At least not anymore. Not since things had fallen apart. If she were being truthful with herself, she knew that had occurred over five years ago. There had been no single deciding factor that their relationship was doomed to fail. But conscious efforts to spend time together ceased; the number of times they made love per week—and then per month—decreased before devolving into mechanical, passionless motions; Mark became a more fixed presence that Derek's; Derek took more and more cases and worked later hours... They had missed one another's birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries without the other even caring enough to point it out.

No, their marriage had suffered no vital injuries. There had been no fatal wounds. Their love had just slowly withered away into nothingness. And Addison had been so caught up in work and her own feelings, that she didn't even realize anything had changed. So she tried to make him make it work, and it hadn't. It hadn't, or they wouldn't have divorced.

Addison knew she needed to realize that.

There was a knock on the door, but Alex Karev didn't wait to be told to come in before opening the door. "Hi," he said, a bit too friendly.

"Hello, Dr. Karev," she said, straightening herself up from a lying position on the bed.

"Listen, Sloan's got this wicked burn case, he said I could scrub in … if you're not busy." He raised his brows, which Addison took to mean that she owed him something, probably for taking her to her O.B. Appointment.

"Sure, whatever. I don't care." She didn't have any scheduled surgeries for several hours.

Alex sighed heavily, shaking his head like he was about to do something he would regret. "What's wrong?" He shut the door and came to sit down beside her.

Addison smiled wryly at her intern. "Oh, nothing. Life just … sucks."

Alex leaned back, letting his head rest against the wall. "I've been in love with Izzie Stevens since the first time I laid eyes on her," he said plainly.

Addison quirked an eyebrow, but didn't bother to look at him. Alex was a nice guy, but she wasn't going to let on anything she knew about Mark and Izzie. If there was anything.

"I know your pain," he said, and Addison was almost confused. He had never shared anything with her, and she doubted whether he had opened up to very many people at all. Very strange. He smiled, leaning forward again. "You good here?"

"Um, yeah, thanks, Karev." She didn't know how to respond to him exactly. She wasn't used to speaking to him in any way greater than how she would speak to a mangy old stray. He got up without another word and left the room, leaving Addison decidedly very confused.

What _was _Mark doing? Why had he invited Karev along into surgery? To interrogate him? Or was he actually pining after Meredith? What he was doing lately, she had no idea. They had had their last big argument, and then they had simply stopped talking—with the obvious exception of Mark's random preachings in the hallways about how irresponsible she was.

In fact, she didn't know how she felt about him. Sometimes she would lay in bed and just … _need_ him. He had a very strong personality, and she liked that. He was a good support when she needed him, but, could she trust him? He was probably just vying for her attention like something he couldn't have.

But Derek wasn't exactly competition. Addison had told him plainly to get out of her life. And he seemed to be ready for that. It was the first time Addison had seen so much emotion in him since moving to Seattle. Maybe he was finally letting go...

The only problem with any of it, was that she wasn't sure where she stood on anything. It was all so muddled that she simply wanted to forget it all. But—

And then, naturally, Addison felt her stomach turn as a bout of morning sickness overtook her, sending her running for a restroom.

**A/N**: So, lots of views, but no _re_views. C'mon, spread the love guys. Give me the encouragement that all authors need to produce quality updates. :-)


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N**: So I may or may not have pulled a Hemingway and been totally shit-faced when I wrote this. I think it adds something.

The next few days, Derek didn't speak to Addison at all. In fact, he didn't bother to acknowledge her existence in any form or fashion. But it wasn't exactly as though he had any major distractions. His surgery load had been light, and on top of things, Meredith had been giving him the cold shoulder every time Addison saw them in the hallway. This time was no different.

"Meredith," Derek was saying. "Meredith, wait. We need to talk."

She just kept walking, and Addison kept her distance, eying the two over the chart she was looking over at the nurses' station. Her dark blonde hair snapped behind her as she turned the corner purposefully, leaving Derek to sigh dejectedly and turn the other direction.

Addison grabbed up her chart and followed in the same direction Meredith had gone. Not because she was nosy, she had to remind herself, but because she had business in that part of the hospital. Eventually she did have to stop walking though, because she came upon Meredith in the lounge having a conversation with none other than Mark Sloan. She quickly ducked around the corner and pretended to be very interested in Mrs. Alma Peterson's chart, which detailed her hysterectomy.

Meredith tossed hair out of her eyes with a flick of her wrist, then looked at the ground past Mark, whose arms were folded, a look of concentration with a hint of amusement upon his face. "I just … how do I know if I can trust him, ya know?"

"Because he loves you," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, and Hitler loved Germany," she dead-panned. "I want to; I really, really do, but I can't. I can't trust him."

"I agree. Who can you trust? What makes someone worthy of your trust, anyway?" He dropped his hands and looked her in the eye very seriously. Addison was safe as long as their gazes did not break from one another to see her peeking around the wall. She very much liked how he was behaving. It was refreshing. "There's nothing going on. Promise."

"He's right," said Addison as she popped around the corner, pretending to have only accidentally overheard the conversation. "There really isn't anything going on with us. Just talking."

"Well hello, Addie." Mark grinned at her arrival. _Why must he always grin like that?_

"Actually," she continued, ignoring him, "I'm with Mark." She gave her best big, happy smile, curling an arm around his waist.

"Oh." Meredith looked confused for only the briefest moment before flashing a smile and bidding them both good day, and leaving the lounge.

"Now why would you say that?" Mark asked before the door had even closed behind Meredith. "Why would _Addison Forbes Montgomery_ ever admit to anyone that she liked me? Nay, that she was 'with' me, whatever that means to her...?"

Addison rolled her eyes, then peered at him thoughtfully for a moment. "You know Mark," she turned toward the door, "you really could be just as good a guy as Derek used to be."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" He laughed.

"See you around," she said with a small smile before exiting the lounge as well.

--

As the day trudged on, Addison found herself inevitably by the nurses' desk again. She had not had much to do, only two minor and quick procedures that morning. So charting it was. She kept turning over in her mind the events that had taken place earlier. Why had she gone out of her way for Derek's intern's sake? Why had the first thing that came to her mind, been that she was "with" Mark (whatever that meant, indeed)? She sighed just thinking about it. At least it got Derek out of trouble. She knew he loved Meredith, but couldn't figure out why he had stopped speaking to her lately. Their last conversation had been awkward and somewhat unexpected in its contents, but had it really been so bad? She couldn't understand it.

As Addison left the nurses' station, a snatch of a conversation made her turn around:

"Well, it's obvious she's pregnant. I don't know why she tries to hide it." It was one of the gossiping nurses. Certainly that wasn't what they were paid for, but Addison was beginning to have her suspicions.

"Does she try to hide it? It's more like she expects nobody to notice that she's _at least _four months. Whose do you think it is?" Nurse number two's tone was low and excited. She couldn't see Addison from the other side of the room.

"Well," said the first nurse, "I happen to know that _exactly_ four months ago, _I_ saw her come out of a supply closet with Alex Karev, and both looked like... well, you can guess."

Addison had to stifle a laugh. They sincerely thought her child's father was _Karev_?

"No. Way. What about Izzie?!" gasped the second nurse.

"She's been seeing McSteamy! But it's all hush-hush, you know." Addison snorted at the woman's air of knowing everything about the situation. "I only found out because George O'Malley is a friend of hers, and of course a friend of mine, so..."

"And you know Meredith has been giving McDreamy the cold shoulder because _she_ thinks the baby is his, as if that were even possible. He just needs to dump her; she's so paranoid. Everyone saw how it was when they were married, I doubt he even touched her." The second nurse took her turn.

The last words stung somewhat, but Addison didn't let it get to her. Who cared what they thought of her marriage to Derek?

And it was, just as her luck would have it, just at that moment that a hand grabbed her shoulder, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. Addison wheeled around quickly to see a solemn-faced Derek Shepherd standing behind her.

"Jesus, Derek, you scared the life out of me."

"I want to know whose it is."

"You ... what—?" Her heart skipped her stomach and hit the floor as dread came over her. Had he heard the nurses?

He led her away, though the nurses had caught sight of the pair of them already and seemed to move in closer like vultures.

"I just want to know whose baby it is that you're having. That's all," he said in a calm voice which Addison was sure was forced and very fake.

"How is that any of your business?" she came at him haughtily. "You said you wanted me out of Seattle, but I can't do that, I have a contract. So I stay away from you, and you stay away from me. How can what I do or whose children I choose to have be any of your concern, Derek?" Of course, it _was_ his concern, but for some reason, she had the hardest time getting that part across.

"It's Mark's, isn't it?" His voice was now dark, almost threatening. "I _knew_ it," he said when she didn't respond.

She stalked away from the nurses looming behind them and into a rarely-used stairwell. "No, Derek, it isn't Mark's. What do you think I am?" Though it was the truth, she had no idea what she meant by her last statement.

He looked at her incredulously. "Whose, then? Alex Karev? Because that would be pretty hypocritical of you—"

"_No_, it's not Karev's. He's my student for God's sake. I'm not like _you_," she spat the last word.

His face went blank and he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes tight. "I just want to know who the father of my ex-wife's child is, Addison. It's nothing personal, I'm not going to judge you for it. I just need to know."

She scoffed at this, not understanding how or why he would need to know. "_No_, Derek, it's none of your business." It wasn't, she reminded herself. She had pledged to no longer need men, and though she thought she would tell him one day, she wasn't going to give into his demands today. "I have a surgery," she said, and she calmly left the stairwell, leaving Derek behind her without another glance.

She, of course, did not have a surgery, but rather a long overdue appointment with an on-call room and a good cry. She burst into the first one she saw, and found Mark Sloan sleeping on the bottom bunk. Before the door was even open though, she had tears rolling down her face. Mark sat upright quickly, looking bewildered.

"Addie?"

She sniffled and glared at him. "_Don't_ start with me, Mark. I don't want to hear anything you have to say right now." Her last words came out weak and ended with a sob.

"Whoa, chill out. What's wrong?"

"_Urgh_, do you never listen to me? What is it with you men and your inability to properly process what I say? Do you have this problem with all women, or am I just _cursed_? I told you to shut up, and I meant it. You're a slutty piece of trash, Mark Sloan, and I don't want to see you. I don't want to … I don't want to look at you... Or..." She finally broke down, and could no longer speak.

Losing all control, she couldn't fight Mark when he got up from the bed and put his arms around her, allowing her to bury her face in his chest. She couldn't fight him when he stroked her hair and shushed her crying. She couldn't stop him when he slowly eased her down on the bed, locking the door in the same motion. As her tears wore off, she might have been able to stop him as he pulled her closer to him, all the while assuring her everything would turn out for the best.

"Addie," he said softly, and she obeyed by meeting his eyes. They were searing, all of his features drawn into a passionate look she had never seen before. "I missed you."

Before she knew what she was saying, she uttered, "I missed you too," and allowed him to cup her chin, bringing his mouth to meet hers. He gave her a chaste kiss before pulling away obediently and brushing stray locks of hair from her face, wiping away tears and smudged makeup.

And then, in an act she could easily later blame on imbalanced hormones, she kissed him back, deeply and passionately. He didn't hesitate, pushing her gently onto the bed without breaking their lock on one another. He freed a hand to slide under her neck for support, and she allowed him to maneuver himself above her. He came in for another kiss, and she knew what was about to happen, but it was nothing like she had ever remembered. Sex with Mark was carnal, but this was an entirely new experience.

She was about to actually make love to Mark Sloan.

**A/N:** So I got one review for the last chapter. How about some for this one, please?


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Longest chapter of the series! Yay!

Addison did not remember at what time she had fallen asleep, or when she had even entered the room to find Mark, practically awaiting her arrival with open arms. She wasn't sure what had awoken her, in fact, and tried not to think of what had transpired. She kept her eyes closed, hoping the arms around her were not those of Mark Sloan. This scene, though she was still only half-asleep, was not what she had anticipated. While he may have been holding her in the _cuddliest_ of _cuddly_ positions, Addison realized that she was actually fully clothed.

It had happened again. That awful, awful thing. She had fallen asleep next to Mark without having slept with him. They had fallen asleep as a _couple_ might: worn-out, exhausted, in an on-call room. What had happened? Hadn't they been about to … _wait, no_, she thought. She had most definitely not been about to have sex with her ex-husband's ex-best-friend, she had almost made love to him. Mercifully, the word had been almost. Addison recalled what had occurred:

_Mark had removed his own shirt, bringing himself as close to her as possible, brushing his lips over her neck, tickling the sensitive skin with his beard, alighting every inch of her body with the burn of anticipation. She reminded herself that she actually _wanted _this; that it was all her decision. But was it really? She had promised herself she would take control of the men in her life, that she would call the shots, and that she didn't _need_ any of them._

"_Mark..." she whispered hesitantly._

"_Hmm?" He wasn't really paying attention, but rather placing sensual, almost out-of-character, kisses along her swollen abdomen._

_Though it was hard to do so, she cupped his chin and smiled. "Too fast." And as if the words were a command, he stopped what he was doing._

"_Let me know when you're ready," he said simply, coming to rest beside her._

And there they had remained. He had held her until she drifted to sleep. But then a knock at the door, one which sounded impatient, startled her from her reverie. She wondered vaguely how long the knocker had been outside the door, and concluded it must have been that which had awoken her.

"Who's out there?" she called, hoisting herself off the bed.

"Meredith?" Of course, it was Derek. It was _never_ a normal person seeking a place to sleep, it _always_ had to be trouble knocking on the door for Addison Montgomery.

"Nope. Not even close." She smiled sarcastically. "Can I help you with something though?"

She hadn't really thought about what was on her side of the door, only that Derek Shepherd had annoyingly awoken her from a much-needed nap. He didn't bother responding to her admittedly snide remarks, only stared past her at the still-sleeping form of Mark Sloan, complete with tousled hair and no shirt. For what seemed an eternity, he stood, as if shell-shocked, staring straight ahead. Addison knew it to only really be a few seconds. But eventually he raked his eyes toward her, a new fire burning in them.

The scene was sickeningly familiar. The only other time such a powerful look had been present in Derek's eyes had been on That Night, the one she had tried so hard to permanently erase from her memory, but knew she would never be able to.

"You lied," he said in a soft, venomous tone. In the same instance, his face went from dark and dangerous, to strangely blank and void of all emotion.

Addison decided to keep her cool. After all, it wasn't as if anything had happened anyway. She had no reason to defend herself from anything. "What are you talking about, Derek?"

"You lied about Mark." He still was making no sense to her.

"Could you clarify a bit? Nothing is going on here—"

"Don't _lie to me, Addison_," he spat, his voice rising.

"Derek?" Mark came to the door, pulling on his shirt. People in the hallway were stopping to watch, but Addison was at least able to keep herself from registering any faces before the situation escalated.

Derek didn't change his gaze from Addison to Mark as he spoke, "Don't you _speak to me_." He was honestly scaring her now. "It's his, isn't it? This whole time, you're _screwing Mark_, and you're pregnant with his _fucking love child _to boot? Real classy, Addison! Real classy." He laughed, though no one present could have found a trace of happiness in its tone.

"Ohh no you don't, Derek. _No_. You don't get to talk to me like that—"

"You were _fucking my best friend while we were married_, Addison." He seemed to have no regard for the crowd gathering—albeit at a safe distance of several yards. Addison assumed that was because they were afraid he would literally explode before their eyes.

"First of all, no, I wasn't. Not after... New York... Second, _you_ divorced _me_; you lost all privileges to dictate with whom I decide to have sex, or go on a date with, or sleep next to in an on-call room, or … make balloon animals with, for Christ's sake. The point is, you don't get a say. You cut yourself out, not me. _You_."

"You got knocked up by _him_ while you were married to _me_. I have every right to be upset about that. You led me to think you were the dutiful wife again."

At that point, Mark came in between them, placing a hand on Derek's chest and pushing him slightly away from Addison. "You don't know the whole story. Actually, you don't know the story at all. Get your facts straight, buddy. And don't speak to her like that." He was actually smiling, like the whole situation was amusing to him.

Derek's face began to fill with blood, and Addison was sure something horrible was going to happen. She was sure her ex-husband and her—whatever Mark was—were about to begin throwing punches. And she, herself, would surely combust if it went on any longer...

"IT'S YOURS!" She shouted, just as Derek began to make his move on Mark. "Does this _look_ like four months to you? All those years married to an OB, and you can't tell _four_ months from _six _months?" And all of a sudden, it was like nothing else in the world mattered. Not arguing with Derek or falling asleep next to Mark, or the swarm of doctors, nurses, and various staff members surrounding them. Nothing.

Derek stepped back, almost stumbling, from Mark. All the vibrant, hateful color left his face, and he dropped his hand from where it was gripping Mark's upper arm, preparing for a strike. He didn't say a word to either of them, but rather turned on heel and left the scene.

Addison soon realized that at least half of the surgical wing was present, and had heard the entire exchange. She didn't realize that had included Meredith Grey, until she was pushing her way up the stairs in a very quick fashion.

Mark must have noticed her at the same time, because he said quickly, "I'll go talk to her," and darted off in her direction, leaving Addison standing alone, as if she were facing wolves.

Everyone knew now; the truth was finally out. And there she was, alone again.

--

Addison woke up the next morning to the sound of her cell phone going off on the bedside table. She grasped for it sleepily, not paying attention as it fell off the table and into the floor. With a groan, she bent over to pick it up just as the ringing stopped. Waiting for the ding of a voicemail, she listened to the message:

"_Addie, I didn't want you to think I'd just abandoned you yesterday. I wanted to go back to your place, but I stayed here, at Meredith's. She needed some explaining and talking down. Yeah, I know,_" he laughed, "_me, talking someone down. Just didn't want you to worry that pretty little head of yours_. _Good night. Er, morning_."

Addison rolled her eyes. Of course he was at Meredith's. Wasn't Izzie at Meredith's, though? Addison was genuinely confused by Mark and his choice in women, or whatever it was that he was doing with Meredith and Izzie. Or, maybe he was with _both _of them last night. Addison didn't know whether to laugh or vomit at the idea.

Reluctantly, she pressed the _call back_ button on the touch-screen and waited for Mark's answer. "Good morning, sunshine. Ya miss me?"

"Mark. Why were you calling me at six in the morning?"

"Wake-up calls are one of the many services that I offer, Addie," he said seriously, but she could hear the stifled laugh. "I was just letting you know why I didn't call you yesterday or … whatever."

She couldn't help but smile. "I thought you didn't do that whole 'vagina thing,' what happened to that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, calling people, having sleepovers where you convince girls that'he's still into you, he just needs some space and some time.'" She was, of course, mocking him.

"C'mon, Addie, Meredith and I are … friends. Nothing happened."

"Yeah, right."

"No, it's like you and Derek. You guys talk and whatever, and I don't get all psycho."

"Oh, am I being psycho? And why would that bother you?" She just wanted to hear him say it.

"Ah, never mind. I'll see you at the hospital." And he hung up.

No matter how much Addison's having a baby had changed Mark Sloan's perspective on various aspects of life, she knew he would always be _Mark Sloan_, scum of the earth.

--

Addison went several hours and through two surgeries before she actually saw Derek. She had begun to think he had taken the day off, and she really couldn't have blamed him. But of course, Derek Shepherd did not take days off. He was, and probably always would be unless Meredith changed that, a workaholic.

"Derek," she said as she caught him jogging up the flight of stairs. He always jogged, always in a hurry. Addison resolved that you could take a man out of New York, but you couldn't take New York out of a man—at least not entirely.

He ignored her, though, and didn't break pace.

"Derek, we need to talk."

And then he was through the door, as if her voice was merely the wind and her presence nonexistent.

--

At noon, Richard paged her to his office. She couldn't say she hadn't been expecting it. She at her lunch alone, having not heard from Mark, and Derek being completely ridiculous. And then she made the dreary walk to Richard's office, dreading what he had to say.

"Addie," he said warmly, greeting her with a much-needed hug. "How are we?" He smiled in a paternal manner, referring to the ever-increasing bump barely hidden anymore beneath her loose-fitting scrub top.

"We … could be better," she sighed, feeling awkward referring to the parasitic invasion of her body as a separate entity. "But we're six months along, so getting there … getting there."

Richard smiled once more and ushered her towards a seat, taking his usual spot behind his desk. "You're really starting to show," he commented as he sat down. He was not very good at subtleties.

Addison nodded in agreement, feeling sure she knew exactly where he was going. "Unfortunately, I may need to request another size in scrubs soon. These just aren't cutting it anymore."

"About that, Addie," he said softly. "Maybe it's time you took your maternity leave. I know it's a bit early, but it's hard for someone in our line of work to stand up all day, especially in your present … condition."

"Richard, I appreciate the sentiment, but I can't do that. You know I can't do that."

He sighed and lowered his eyes to the heavily polished desktop. Leaning back in his chair, he then looked back up at her with something akin to pain in his gaze. "Look, it's not that I don't love you, Addie, you know I do. But I can't have my doctors fighting—_fighting—_in the hallways. I can't have it, I won't have it."

"You won't, sir. That was a one-time thing. Things have just been difficult. I have to stay here. I have … nothing else," she ended feebly. "There was Derek, and then there was prom, and then there wasn't Derek anymore. Then there was Mark, and then I'm pregnant with Derek's baby, and now there's … no one. There's no one." She composed herself again. Those two didn't deserve to make her sink so low. "Richard, I need to be here. You understand that."

He frowned deeply, but she could tell that he did, indeed, understand. "Fine. But only if you promise to me, as a friend and as your boss, that there will be no more outbreaks like what happened yesterday."

She smiled, but as soon as she did she realized tears were threatening to break loose. "You have my word."

**A/N:** So, if you review with what ship you want, I'm going to count them towards the end and see which ship wins out. I've had the three different possibilities in my head since I started writing this, and while I was sure about one for most of the time, the other two could be done just as easily, but very differently. Let me know what you think!


	19. Chapter 19

After nearly six months of doing so, Addison was very, very tired of waking up alone. In fact, she was very, very tired, period. Tired of being alone, tired of being tired, tired of being pregnant and sore all the time, tired of the two stupid men in her life, tired of going home to an empty home. She just needed to rest; to rid her mind of all the stress that had been induced since arriving in Seattle, and especially since discovering her pregnancy. It was too much to handle, and she knew it. She shouldn't have to deal with it all when she was trying very hard to have a happy, normal pregnancy.

Addison rolled over on the cot in the tiny, dark on-call room. She didn't want to move from it. She just laid there, wondering where life was going to take her. It seemed she had planned every move she would make down to the letter, yet the last year had thrown everything off track and out of her hands. And she had to admit she had been the catalyst. She should have just gotten used to Derek's never being home, should have taken longer hours herself. Maybe she should have spoken with him about it, but instead, she slept with his best friend. She took advantage of a close friend's boyish attraction, and of her husband's trust. She had slept with another man in the bed she shared with her husband. That wasn't even something she _did_. She had never done anything like it before. Derek was her dream man, why had she acted on such a silly impulse with such a silly man, ruining her near-perfect marriage?

But then Derek, the perfect husband with only the small flaw of working too often, had flown off to Seattle to find someone else. Or maybe he hadn't even been looking when he found Meredith? Either way, he had her now. He had her, and though things were obviously difficult, she knew that things would work out for them. Things always worked out for them. But never so much for her.

Addison understood with a great solemnity that things would never be the way she had imagined. She had known from the first date that she would marry Derek Shepherd; that Mark, Naomi, Sam, Sav, Weiss, and her brother would be her support system. She knew she would be a biology major, then a doctor, then an OB/GYN, then an obstetrics surgeon. She knew one day she would have Derek's children... But not like this. She had never planned or wanted or even thought about _this_.

She didn't even know what her child's name was going to be. She truly did like Derek's grandfather's name. It had been his father's middle name as well, and nearly Derek's name. Sebastian was suitable. That is, if Derek would stand for having his unwanted, unloved, unclaimed bastard son's name reflecting his at all. But then what for a last name? She had never thought she would be in a position to have her child's last name become an issue. She wanted Montgomery-Shepherd, or even just Shepherd. The thought of having a child taking _her_ last name was mortifying...

What would she do without him? Without the love of her life, the father of her child, the man who was _supposed_ to be there through everything? How could she possibly do this alone? She wanted to say that she didn't need him or anyone else, that Adele's advice was sound and that she could follow it down to the letter; but she wasn't sure if she could. It was too difficult, living with herself … living with this regret that was her unborn son.

She wrapped her arms around her swollen belly—around her future, for better or for worse—and she did not cry; she _wept._

It felt absolutely wonderful to allow all of the emotions she had pent up come flowing freely out, her body contracting and shaking with each hiccuped sob. She didn't know how long she laid there, freeing herself of so many worries and problems, but it seemed a good while. Soon the droves of tears subsided, and someone knocked on the door, followed by:

"Dr. Montgomery?" She knew the voice on the other side well by now.

"Come in," she said, drying her eyes and wiping away smudged makeup. "What is it, Karev?" she asked without looking up or moving. She felt entitled to not have to move at this point.

Addison felt him sit down on the bottom of the bed and so she sat up, curious at his intention. "Juice?" he asked nonchalantly.

She smiled at the glass tumbler full of orange juice he held in one hand. "Oh, thanks. Yes. Juice." She realized she sounded ridiculous, but random acts of kindness was not something she had been used to lately. "That's very uncharacteristic of you, Karev," she said, taking the tumbler from him and eying him suspiciously, "what do you want? Does Mark have another _totally awesome _case you want in on or something?" She smirked at her attempt to impersonate him.

He rolled his eyes, looking away. "Don't give me that crap. You're my attending, and you've got to look sharp, or it makes me look bad." She was fairly certain he was arguing with himself more-so than her, but decided to let it go.

"What do you think about Sloan and Stevens?" he said abruptly, not meeting her eye.

She peered down the bed at him curiously. He was trying to talk to her, truly talk to her. Clearly, he was very out of practice. "I think..." she started slowly, aiming to choose her words carefully, "...that they have been out a few times, but they're no serious threat."

"You're screwing Sloan again, aren't you?" He cast her a smug look, which she returned with a glower.

"_No_. That's none of your business, anyway." She pursed her lips, then took a sip of the juice. "I do have my suspicions about Grey, though. Mark has been seeing a lot of her."

"_Meredith_? No way. She's crazy about McDreamy. No, they're like, friends or … whatever. Not screwing." He smiled in a manner he must have thought was reassuring, then stood up. "So, you have a consult waiting for you. Did you get my page earlier?"

"Right behind you."

--

A few days later, and nearly two weeks since Derek had stopped speaking to her, Addison was winding down the day in the locker room. It was difficult, but the finish line was close. Then she wouldn't have to worry with prenatal vitamins, morning sickness, back pain, refraining from alcoholism, or birth certificates. Soon, it would be over and she would have a baby boy to care for and keep her company. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

"Addie," said the only voice in the world that could send the chills right down her back again. She turned in his direction, and had to keep herself from smiling. Derek was freshly shaven, wearing a nice suit that didn't reek of Seattle, and had the soft smile she had fallen in love with plastered across his face.

"Derek," she responded somberly, trying to keep as much face as possible. "How are you?" _That's __right_, she thought, _everything is completely normal_.

"I'm …" He sighed, shaking his head and placing his hands on his hips. His eyes fell to the floor, and the smile quickly left his face. "I wanted to apologize."

Addison raised her eyebrows expectantly, unsure of what to say to that.

"I mean it," he said seriously, closing some of the distance between them. "The way I acted was completely unforgivable. You deserve better than that, and I … I'm sorry. That's all I know to say." He didn't seem to be finished, though. "Meredith and I are … we're on shaky ground, to say the least."

He paused for a long time, and looked her square in the eyes, searching. The intensity of his gaze made Addison want to look away, but she wasn't about to show him any sign of weakness. She simply stood rooted to the spot, waiting for whatever he had to say next.

"She thinks I should try to work things out with you," he all but whispered, finally averting his stare.

Addison had to laugh at that. "That's ridiculous, Derek. You do realize that's completely ridiculous?" She scoffed

His expression didn't change as he slowly dragged his eyes back to hers. "I don't know, Addie." His voice was soft, riddled with emotion. "I think it may be a good idea."

Addison took a deep breath in and out; she had not expected this situation to ever occur. "No, we've had our run. It doesn't end well, if you remember. I almost regret this, all of this..." It was not hard to discern what, exactly, she spoke of.

"That's a horrible thing to say," spat Derek automatically, his features drawing in with apparent disgust. "Listen, Addison... I don't want to fight with you anymore. I'm through fighting with you. I didn't expect this to happen. I didn't expect that after so long we would find ourselves here. And the truth is … I don't know what to do with myself without you. I can't function properly."

Addison took his words in stride. "You perhaps should have thought about that before leaving New York, and before committing yourself to your intern." The last two words came out sharply, as they always seemed to do.

"I just want to make this work. Our … our child deserves a family. I want to be there, full-time." She couldn't take what he was saying anymore, and broke down into near-hysterical sobs.

She felt herself collapse into Derek's chest, and his arms wrap around her securely. His scent, she hadn't smelled it in so long. The feeling it gave her was overwhelmingly right. It was the closest thing to perfect she had felt in over a year, though the circumstances were all wrong. And before she knew what was happening, Derek's hand was lifting her chin. He was giving her an earnest, imploring look. And then he kissed her, so chastely he seemed to hardly touch her lips.

**A/N: **Fairly short, but I thought it was better quality than some of the last few chapters. They were just not up to par. Don't forget to vote if you've not already. :-) Critique is great as well. We're getting closer to the end...


	20. Chapter 20

Addison backed away quickly from her ex-husband, waves of various emotions crashing over her: unadulterated love, regret, shame, anger, desire, and sadness. She looked him wildly in the eye, moving to a safer distance, not caring that her face was plainly betraying all of the feelings raging inside of her. She marveled at the look of confusion on his face; as if he simply couldn't understand why Addison wouldn't want him to kiss her, or to hold her, or to say the sort of things he was saying. He looked like he wanted her. And that was scary. She had spent many, many nights hoping she would see that look in his eye again, and yet when it was there, all it did was _scare_ her.

"Derek..." she said in a low, cautious tone, trying to find the right words to say to him. "This isn't right. This shouldn't happen this way."

He smiled warmly at her, but seemed to respect her space enough to know close the distance she had created between them. Instead, he just shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers and sighed. "I'm sorry. It was just … instinct, I suppose. I've never … seen you like this." His eyes moved to the nearly seven-months pregnant belly barely hidden beneath her sweater.

"I have to go," she said abruptly, not wanting anything else happening for which she could later be blamed, or kick herself.

"Where?" He watched her collect her things from her locker, shoving them carelessly into a customized, oversized Louis Vuitton handbag. Normally, she didn't even use the locker room just for the very purpose of not having to run into Derek or Mark or other gawking gawkers. _Normally_, she would stash everything in her office. But today, she had been running late and her office was too far for her to make it in time without being late for rounds. This was just her luck.

"Nowhere," she admitted before realizing she was allowing him to ask her personal questions the answers to which he had no business knowing.

"Fantastic. Then, let me take you out tonight." He was beaming a large smile dripping with every ounce of Shepherd charm that he possessed.

"What about Meredith?" Not that she even really cared. All she wanted was some company, and Derek's was more than welcome.

"I could break it off with her—" he began slowly, a strange look overcoming him.

Addison took in his features, and she wasn't sure that that was really what he wanted to do. He needed to be with Meredith, of that much she was certain. "I'll let you take me out, Shepherd, but you're not going to hurt Grey again."

"Since when were you so protective of Meredith?" he asked with a chuckle, moving to help her with her coat.

"Since you did the same thing to me," she shot back sharply. It was true. No one deserved what Derek had put her through, not even the "other woman" of the scenario. She watched with something akin to a smug sense of vengeance as his face fell guiltily. "Besides, Derek," she pressed on as she pushed his hands away to do the buttons herself, though she could hardly see past her belly, "the question of giving up Meredith is completely moot. I don't need you."

"We'll see about that," he stated confidently as he opened the door for her, and the both of them exited.

--

The divorced couple drove to a park not too far from the hospital in Derek's beaten-up Range Rover. There was an eerie atmosphere in the vehicle, one that didn't seem as perfect or as right as the embrace they had shared very briefly merely an hour ago. For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that this rendezvous was _wrong_. She couldn't put her finger on why, but the short trip did not bode very well for her, even with Derek's lopsided grin flashing her way every few moments.

She did calm once they entered the park, however. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and shone through the trees in a last, feeble grasp at the earth. The place was deserted, save for the many chirping birds preparing to head south for the winter, their songs rising and falling together like nature's great symphony. The smell of the crisp multicolored leaves, being whisked from their treetop homes by the chilly wind, met Addison's nostrils in a way she wasn't sure it had before. Entranced by it all, she didn't notice Derek's presence next to her until she felt the warmth of his hand enclosing her own. The scene was perfect.

They continued to walk in silence for a while, both obviously captivated by their surroundings. It had been a long time since either had taken time out to enjoy a park at twilight. The fact that it was the first time they had spent time together like this since coming to Seattle, was not lost on Addison.

The serenity was hardly broken by Derek's utterance of a simple question: "So, are you with … Mark?" Addison could tell it was difficult for him to muster the courage to ask such a bold question, and probably to even say his former friend's name.

She sighed, not breaking pace as they rounded a pond scattered with geese. "Sort of. Mostly no, I think." She didn't know the answer to that. She wanted to know the answer, but everything was so impossibly difficult right now... "He's been going out with Izzie Stevens as far as I know. But he's still … you know, _Mark_ _Sloan_." She paused for a moment, considering what she meant by that. She didn't know that, either, anymore. "What about you? What's going on with you and, uh, Dr. Grey?" She had successfully refrained from calling her the slutty intern, that was a good start in the right direction.

"Sort of," he said, meeting her eyes for a moment with a smile. "Honestly, I don't know where we're at. We were okay, and then we just weren't. Maybe this is my punishment for adultery. Maybe I don't get to be happy with her. I don't know. But I know that I love her," he finished with greatest clarity. "She's nothing like you though, and I think she knows I see that. That's where our problems originate. She knows that … this is hard for me. She's nothing like you," he repeated. Then, after a beat, "she's so much more naïve, for everything she's gone through. More naïve than _you_, I mean. She's easier to get along with though. She's not … _Satan_." He allowed a laugh at his own non-joke. Addison elbowed him in the arm, though she knew what he was saying was very true.

They turned a corner on the walking track running along the side of the pond, and Addison found she needed to sit down on a bench there. Walking was difficult at nearly seven months pregnant, though her bump was not quite as big as that of most women at twenty-six weeks.

"Are you okay?" Derek offered immediately, seating himself next to her with a concerned look on his face.

She nodded, smiling thankfully at him. "Mark's a good guy, you know," she said quietly. She didn't know why she said it, but only that she felt a lot better once the words were in the open between the two of them. Derek didn't seem to want to disagree so she continued, "He was the first person I told about … about the baby. I thought it was his, at first. I think I knew on some subconscious level that it was yours though. I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want to drag you down with me. So he … he offered to help me, you know, raise him." She glanced tentatively at him from under her lashes, not wanting to make direct eye contact. She was afraid the words would set him off.

Derek leaned back on the bench with a sigh, turning his attention toward the steadily darkening sky, stars popping into view every second. "That surprises me," he admitted at long last, and while he didn't seem angry, she couldn't discern what he was feeling. She had lost that ability when she betrayed their marriage with Mark.

To her own surprise, Derek put an arm around her, and she was grateful for the gesture; it was beginning to grow cold out, as was normal for late October in Seattle.

"He loves me, Derek," she stated, wanting everything settled between the two of them. "I think he always has. I remember, when we first met, he looked at me..." She trailed off, unable to put into words what Mark's first look at her had been, "And I knew. But … _you_ always had my heart. I used him in New York. I used that look I first saw, that I knew was... was always there..." She stopped, feeling an odd sensation coursing through her, something akin to sadness, but not quite. It was a confusing feeling. "He didn't mean to hurt you, Derek."

"I know he's been spending time with Meredith, Addison," he pointed out, as if that solved everything.

She shook her head. "I'm certain they're just friends. I heard from Alex Karev—"

He snorted, "—_you heard from Alex Karev?_ Addison, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've given into the Seattle Grace gossip mill!" He seemed to find this extremely amusing, and bent over almost double laughing and slapping his knee enthusiastically.

Addison quirked an eyebrow at him, glancing around to see if people were watching. Heaven forbid someone normal saw her accompanied by someone behaving the way he was. It wasn't even that funny. At least she didn't think so.

"Anyway," she went on awkwardly, deciding to ignore him as he wiped tears from his eyes, "I think they're just friends, Derek. She's obviously head over hills with _you_—the fancy, funny, brain surgeon with wonderful hair. They call you McDreamy. She's not going to want anything else." Addison finished the last sentence lamely, the double-meaning of her words not escaping her.

He must have noticed this too, because his attention to her sharpened. His grip around her shoulders was back, and he moved closer in. She was amazed at how he could go from one persona to the next; from "The Derek Shepherd Whom She Had Fallen in Love With," back to "Derek Shepherd of the Woods and Collector of Fishing Tackle." They really were two separate entities, she realized.

He didn't seem to catch onto her realization, though. "Maybe we should work something out. I grew up without a father, Addison, I don't want my son to go through the same."

But his words were not, "I miss and love you, Addison," which might have changed her mind. She shook her head slowly. "And mine were the most unhappily married, poorly matched couple I've ever met. Except perhaps the two of us. You love Meredith, don't you? I'm just... an obligation. It didn't work the first time around, and what if it doesn't work this time? Where would that leave our child, Derek? I let you kiss me earlier, and that was a mistake. That shouldn't have happened." She wasn't angry, but she wanted desperately to stay on her course of not needing him, so she was forceful.

He averted his gaze to the ground, moving away from her again, though not letting go of her hand. "I'm sorry, Addison, that I've ever made you feel that way. That we were as bad as your parents. I'm sorry for how I've treated you in the past. I'm just … I'm so _very sorry_." He turned his face away from her, and she was sure there were new tears in his eyes, but not those of of laughter; these were, judging by the low, heartfelt tone of his voice, were much deeper than that.

She didn't know what to say to him, so she just smiled sadly. She shivered at the loss of his warmth, the cold breeze whipping through her hair. "Perhaps we should call it a night."

And that they did, at very long last.

**A/N**: I really liked this chapter! I'd been looking forward to writing it for a very long time, so I hope it came out alright. I feel like it did. Please let me know how you liked it. :-)


	21. Chapter 21

Now twenty-nine weeks pregnant, Addison was ready to have everything return to how they should be. Where most parents would mark the dates of their projected delivery date on their calendars out of joy their new child would arrive—Addison Montgomery was merely counting the days until she was no longer housing a kicking, punching, two-pound parasitic spawn of Derek Shepherd: Woodsman and Collector of Fishing Tackle within her uterus. She was glad things were turning around between them, and that Mark had stopped begging her to come home with him. Derek had ceased suggesting they should be together, and he seemed happy with Meredith, but Addison wasn't completely fooled by what was likely a facade on his part.

Still, she met with him on occasion. She had to, he was the father of her child. The arrangements for raising their son, for delivery, for their own relationship—all the things a normal couple had to go through, were still upon them. She liked to pretend it was bothersome to be in his company, but truthfully, it felt nice to have someone to share those troubles with. It was a huge relief, and things were almost beginning to feel something resembling normal. Of course, there was nothing quite normal about their situation.

She was scheduled to have lunch with him in the cafeteria. They had not made time for one another in the last two years of their marriage, yet now that it was lying in shards around their feet, much of their time was spent together. The irony was not lost on Addison as she sat waiting for him, picking at a so-called pasta salad.

"That looks absolutely disgusting," said the voice of trouble and destruction from over her shoulder.

She turned to peer at Mark Sloan with a frown. He held a cup from Starbucks and a sandwich from a nice, quaint deli from down the street. He also wore his trademark wolfish grin, the one that always made her knees turn to butter... But she didn't like to think about it like that. "And it is. What do you want?" She hadn't spoken with him in several days, and she liked to think that she preferred it that way. But there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach that kept achingly reminding her that that was not true.

"I was _going_ to say that I went out and bought you this lunch, but now I don't know if I'll say that." He hid the coffee and sandwich behind his back, pretending to look hurt.

She turned around to face him better, wanting to smile at his thoughtfulness. But he was never thoughtful—she wasn't sure he even knew what the word meant. "You didn't buy that for me. Come _on_ Mark, like I don't know you better than that."

His brow furrowed. "Yes I did. I took special time out of my day to ponder what Addie would like for lunch. And then I saw her eating that excuse for pasta she got off the hot bar, and I knew that I had to give her this delicious fifteen-dollar hand-made deli sandwich with everything she likes on it that I don't. And a hot chocolate, see, because she can't have coffee since she's pregnant with my ex-best friend's baby. That's how much I like you." He shoved the cup under her nose and she glanced up at him curiously when she found he was telling the truth; it was hot chocolate, and Mark didn't drink hot chocolate when there was plenty of good coffee to be had.

"You bought me lunch?" She said softly. No one had done anything so nice in a very long while.

"Yes. But now you don't get it. Because you're mean." He smiled wickedly and left her to go sit at another table, his eyes focused meaningfully on her as he took a monstrous bite from the sandwich.

Addison sighed and turned back to her drab meal, wondering why she had even bothered paying for it. It wasn't worth the Styrofoam plate it had been slopped onto. Nevertheless, she was starving, so she picked around at it anyway.

"What's his deal?" Derek asked as he finally came to sit down across from her. He was looking over his shoulder at Mark, who at least now had the decency to look away. "Was he bothering you?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, he bought me lunch. But then he … ate it."

Derek raised an eyebrow at this but elected not to press the issue. "So. Addie." He seemed to gather his thoughts as he prepared a hand-made egg salad. Derek always ate healthily, and Derek always made his own food. It was his thing. "What are we going to do from here? I mean, custody is tricky. We're both surgeons. We're here all the time. Everyone we _know_ is here all the time. And look at Dr. Bailey. Her marriage is deteriorating because of childcare."

"Mercifully, we won't have that problem at least." She smiled wryly at him, and he returned the gesture. "I don't know Derek. What is, I mean, is Meredith going to help? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't, but..." Addison always felt strange when referring to his intern in a civil manner. It didn't feel natural.

"Of course she is," he responded swiftly, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. "She grew up with a mother for a surgeon and apparently it wasn't much fun for her. She has sympathy. And... we're together. She should have a role in my son's life, right? So that's how it will be. She'll do what she can when she can."

Addison wasn't sure how she felt about allowing Meredith near her child. Part of her saw the other woman as just that. That part of her just _knew_ Meredith would be a horrible influence on any young person around her. After all, she had wrecked the child's parents' marriage. What good could come from that woman being in his life? But the other half of Addison—the more rational, Ivy-educated side—reminded her that Meredith was not a bad person. She made mistakes, but hadn't Addison herself? She tried very hard to make nice with her after the prom incident, and Addison couldn't even bring herself to hate her, which shouldn't have been difficult.

Derek silently fiddled with the label on his water bottle, clearly lost in thought. But then, "Listen, Addie, if that's not what you want, I still think it may be in our child's best interest if he had both parents. As I said, we're surgeons, we work long hours. It's going to be difficult to raise a baby with that coupling the fact that we aren't together. Even if we didn't get along all the time, we could make an effort to get along in front of him."

She brought her eyes to his sharply. "I thought this chapter was done. We decided that we failed miserably and we're just going to be two people raising a child. Christ, Derek, why can't you accept that? It shouldn't be hard, considering how easily you gave me up—_twice_." The emphasis on the last word was a lethally cold ice. "And not only that, but I _don't want to be with you_." She didn't? Since when?

Derek looked taken aback. His chin went slightly slack as some heads turned in their direction, including Mark's. Addison took no notice, however.

"You tell me you love Meredith, that you want her to be a part of our son's life, but then you say things like this? You don't even deserve her." She stood from her chair, though for no real reason other than the energy coursing through her body wouldn't allow her to sit still for long. "You prattle on and on about what _you_ think and about _you_ want or what _you_ believe is best. You always get your way, Derek Shepherd, with your stupid hair and your stupid little smile and your stupid 'oh-look-I'm-a-charming-brain-surgeon' routine. But _not this time_. You can't always have your way, it's not going to happen. You—"

She stopped suddenly as a hand on her shoulder wheeled her around to face its owner. "Addie, stop," said Mark quietly. "Why don't you come sit over here, and I'll give you the last of the hot chocolate, okay?"

"I don't have to listen to you, your just the dirty mistress!" She shouted, her lid finally blowing. The situation was simply too, too much for her to handle.

But Mark took her by the hand and led her out of the cafeteria away from the many pairs of pricked ears, alert at the first sign of any kind of gossip. She didn't notice Derek's stunned face as he sat rooted to the spot in his seat, clearly bewildered and unknowing of what he should do. All she could see was red.

"Can you _believe_ him?" she said in a highly aggravated tone as soon as they were out the doors. "He just takes, and takes, and takes. What has he ever done for me?"

"I know, Addie, but—"

She wasn't stopping, though: "Nothing! Not a _damn thing_. He just—he cheats, and he lies. And he makes false promises. He's horrible. He's a horrible person. I can't believe I'm having a _baby_ with such a horrible person!" She was nearing hysterical now.

"Addison, stop it, now," he said firmly, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You can't keep your stress levels this high, it's not healthy, and you know it."

Her eyes flashed as she broke away from him. "I'll do what I damn well _please_, Mark Sloan. You have no control over—_oh!_" She bent over double as a searing pain tore through her body. She had been having them now and then, but had written them off as normal pregnancy pains. This did not feel normal.

"Addie!" He caught her as her knees began to buckle under her weight.

"Mark," she whispered, allowing him to lower her slowly to the floor and beyond thankful he was there, "I think I'm having contractions."

**A/N:** Yes, contractions. Yes, only twenty-nine weeks. So that's not good, in case you didn't know. Short chapter, but kind of major goings-on.

And, last chapter, the one I said I really liked? I only got two reviews for it. So don't forget to do that this time. :-)


	22. Chapter 22

Addison was only vaguely aware of Mark yelling for help and a flock of blurry, should-be familiar faces surrounding her. Derek was among them; his face was the only one she could clearly make out. He looked anguished and then some. She could feel his hands gingerly taking her pulse, could hear Mark's words asking him to help lift her onto the gurney—when did that get there? She saw Mark's face hovering over hers, Derek squeezing her hand. Someone was whispering something to her, something comforting. Someone else was begging her in a stern voice to stay with them. She wanted to. She tried very hard to. She knew it was important that she did, though the reasons why were fuzzy and distorted.

A new face swam into her view, slowly coming into focus. Derek's grip became tighter on her hand as the new face told him something he didn't seem to like. She saw Mark grab his shoulder and their faces were gone. The new face, that of Alex Karev, had made them leave. She didn't want them to leave…

"Alex," she managed, and then corrected herself as her senses flooded back into her body, including the racking, searing pain ripping through her abdomen and pelvis, "Dr. Karev." She was becoming more lucid, more aware of everything around her, and she tried desperately to ignore the pain. "I'm twenty-nine weeks. I have had a normal pregnancy with no complications to date. No history of premature birth or miscarriage…" She trailed off, trying to remember what else to say, answers to the questions she would ask if the roles were reversed.

"Addison," he said calmly, for once using her first name, "you need to be quiet. I've got this under control." He didn't look at her as he wheeled her into a room she recognized all too well; an OB room. The look on his face was betraying. He looked awkward, almost worried. The expression was comforting to Addison. It was nice to know someone cared.

Alex was hooking her up to machines she didn't have the lucidity to make out. There wasn't enough energy in her to see a foot away from her; it was all just out of focus. He stuck an IV into her arm with far too much force.

"You could use some practice with that," she murmured, a weak smile tugging at the corners or her lips.

He didn't answer as he set up a drip. A contraction tore through her body, curling her toes. It sent the world spinning around her in a dizzy motion. She knew they were not supposed to be so painful so soon. Something must be wrong…

"Dr. Montgomery?" The voice was familiar, but she had no idea who was speaking. Nothing was clear to her. "You know me; I'm Dr. Sartori, the head OB here at Seattle Grace." She did know the speaker, but could hardly make her out. "You're going into pre-term labor. There appear to be some minor complications. Karev had the name of your regular OB. We called him, and he instructed us to administer corticosteroids to speed organ development, and antibiotics to prevent infection after your water broke—"

"My water broke?" she said, alarmed. That most definitely should not have happened. She was only twenty-nine weeks. For the first time in those weeks, she felt a surge of maternal fear for her unborn child; a wild sensation like she had never before felt. The rush seemed to pull her somewhat out of her semi-stupor.

"It's okay, it's going to be fine. We also started you on a drip of Ritrodine to halt contractions and hopefully delay or halt labor. It should at least give the steroids a day or two to take effect. In the mean time, you just need to rest and keep your stress levels down, okay sweetie?"

Addison nodded. _Keep my stress levels down…_

"Is there anyone you would like to see? Someone to help you make some of these decisions? The baby's father perhaps?"

_The baby's father_. Derek? Did she want to see Derek? Yes. She did. She very much wanted to see Derek. She loved him, she knew. And he had a calming presence when he wasn't being a complete asshole, which she could very much use right now. But instead her mouth said, "Mark. I want Mark Sloan."

The face of Dr. Sartori cleared and centered. She could see Alex behind her, looking aggravated. He had done everything on his own; he had been the one to act. He knew what to do, presumably because of things she herself had taught him while he had been on her service. Dr. Sartori nodded and motioned for Karev to follow her out the door.

Moments later Mark came in, looking a complete mess. His hair was a mess and she couldn't shake the thought that he looked as if he had been crying. She felt her heart tighten at the sight of him.

"Addie," he whispered painfully, dragging a seat next to her bedside. "God, I'm sorry." She had never heard him so honest; so sober. "I can't even think of how to tell you how sorry I am."

"You didn't do anything…" she said just as realization that he really hadn't done anything dawned on her.

"I could've given you the sandwich. I shouldn't have made you go without food. That was stupid. I'm so stupid." He hung his head, burying his face in his palms.

She managed a feeble laugh. "It wasn't the sandwich, Mark. Seriously. It was … me, letting things bother me when I know they shouldn't have."

"Do you need anything?" He asked quietly, looking back up at her. "I could go get you some more hot chocolate…"

"No, I don't think I need anything." She looked away from him, turning her head towards the window, where it was, of course, raining heavily. "I can't believe this is happening. My baby doesn't deserve this. As if his life wouldn't have been hard enough…"

"'Wouldn't have been?' You're not giving up hope on him yet, are you? He'll be fine. You'll both be fine." He looked surprised that she would think such a thing.

"My career—my entire _life_ focuses on pregnancy and babies and women with babies… And I can't even manage a normal pregnancy. I have to fuck it up. How do I do this? How do I always fuck things up _this bad_? If I had just not let things get to me like that … I might be the reason my son _dies_, Mark, do you know how that feels?" A single tear slipped down her nose as a minor contraction—nothing like its predecessors—rippled through her abdomen. The beta-sympathetic medication they had administered to stop them must have been kicking in.

"Hey," he said firmly, "it's not your fault. Don't you ever think that way. You're a busy person, and you've not been treated fairly." He paused, his stormy eyes penetrating hers. "It's not your fault."

She sniffled, trying not to give into the sobs tearing at her throat. "If I weren't so busy, though, this wouldn't be happening."

"Stop stressing. Just relax." He appeared to not want to argue with her. He reached up and pushed her hair from her face, stroking it back with the gentlest touch she'd ever received from him.

She did as he said, closing her eyes. She focused on his fingers running through her sweaty hair and not on the cramps in her pelvic area. She tried to remember the horrible things he had said or done that had made her want to ostracize him, but she found herself unable to come up with anything. He had, now that she thought back to their interactions since she became aware that she was pregnant, truly been absolutely wonderful to her. He had given her space when she asked for it, he had offered to raise her son, he had brought her lunch, he had offered her sex and let it go when she turned him down. He had changed, definitely for the better. He was no longer the same _Mark Sloan_ she had always pictured him as without a second thought: the juvenile man who chased skirts and made ill-timed jokes at the expense of others. He was now the man who brought the person he loved lunch and watched from the sidelines as she chased someone else, as she had that someone else's child. Or maybe he had always been that person, deep down, and she had just been too blind to notice him.

But there he was: this incredible, unbelievable creature she never thought she would lay eyes upon. He had been right there under her nose the whole time.

She smiled genuinely at him. "I wouldn't know what to do without you." It was random perhaps, but it needed to be said as soon as possible now that she knew it to be true.

Mark's expression didn't change, and she feared she had spoken in vain. But in his own time, he opened his mouth to sigh, then, "Addison. You don't know … just how long I've waited to hear you say that. I honestly never thought you would. I thought from the very first time I saw you, back in med school, that you would always belong to Derek Shepherd. That was how things had always gone. I watched as you two told me you were getting married and couldn't keep your hands off one another. I watched as your brother gave you away to my best friend because your father was too drunk to remember it was your wedding day. I watched when you thought you were pregnant a year into your marriage, but it came back negative—and I was so relieved. I watched when your marriage started to fall apart. I watched for the entire twelve years I knew you and you knew Derek.

"But then you called me one night, and I couldn't just _watch_ anymore. He didn't deserve you, Addie. He was the best friend I ever had. The best friend I'll _ever_ have, I know. And I made the conscious decision to ruin that because I was tired of watching. I had to act. I had to show you how much better things could be. But that didn't work.

"So I watched as you pretended to love me for three months. I watched as you took me for granted for _three solid months_. And I cheated. I cheated because I knew you wanted me to, deep down. You wanted out, you wanted to pursue him in Seattle. And for a while, I didn't have to watch anymore. I didn't have to look at you every goddam day and wish that I could have what Derek didn't even want. How could he not want you? You're _perfect_." He wasn't missing a beat, and Addison had no choice but to sit, dumbstruck, as he gave her every tiny detail of how he truly felt about her.

"And once again, you called me. Because I've always been your crutch, the guy you wouldn't know what to do without, but unable to see it … to see that I've always been there. But what hurt the most about that was that I was _still_ watching. I had to watch Derek's baby grow inside you, the baby I wanted. The baby he didn't deserve or even know about. I had to watch you push me away again and again, and I had to watch you look at him with the same look in your eye, while he looked at Meredith the way he used to look at you.

"I almost gave up, I started going out with Izzie. It seemed like you having a baby and refusing to speak to me meant that I had no shot, less of a shot than I had even when you were happily married. But not even that could work.

"But now… You say you need me. That you wouldn't know what you'd do without me." He paused for the first time, shaking his head and looking grave. "And it's something I already knew, Addie. I just needed you, after these thirteen _years_ I've been waiting, to let me know that you knew it too." And then he smiled, but it wasn't the lecherous or wolfish grin she was used to. This was the smile of a man humbled.

She hardly knew what to say after that, so she said the only thing that made any sense, "I told you I needed time. And now I think you should know. I love you, Mark. I love you."

**A/N:** Yay! I hope I did this justice. I'm really nervous about it. This whole chapter was written while listening to Snow Patrol's "Signal Fire" which is not my favorite of theirs by any means, but I thought it just completely fit.


	23. Chapter 23

Addison was for once okay with being alone. The trauma her body was going through was hellish and unfair, and she wanted very much for the pain and discomfort to end. But she had her son, the child fighting for life within, to keep her company now. Before, he had not been her son; he had been a fetus, a mere concept that was more of a burden than anything else. But his heartbeat, strong and steady, filled the room and was truer and more beautiful than any orchestral composition Addison had ever heard. To know that her baby was there—that he, at least, wasn't going to give up on her anytime soon—was more than enough to make everything else fade into the backdrop. Everything was going to be okay, she knew. In spite of her residual problems, it would all work out.

Though not unbroken, the beeping of the fetal heart monitor was interrupted by the sound of the door pushing open. Alex Karev stuck his head tentatively around the side, and allowed the rest of himself to enter when he saw Addison was awake.

"Is something wrong?" she whispered, the heartbeat too golden to overpower with words.

Alex shook his head and drew up the chair Mark had occupied perhaps only an hour earlier. "No, everything's normal from what I hear."

Addison knitted her brow. "What you hear?"

"The bastards are taking me off your case." He smirked, though Addison knew he was not as coarse as he pretended to be. "Apparently you're non-surgical, at least for now, so I'm just getting in the way or whatever."

She couldn't hold back the smile breaking out across her face. "I'm really glad to see you, Alex," she admitted. He had become a surprising but very good friend in the past six months. Not to mention the fact that he had potentially saved her baby's life. Had he not acted properly and quickly, she didn't know what might have happened.

However, he seemed to act as if he had not heard her compliment, fingering a small hole in the back of the chair he was straddling. "Is there anything you need? Like water or something?"

"I could use a strong coffee," she said with a weak laugh. Oh, could she ever use a coffee. She smiled, turning her focus toward his face. "Thanks anyway."

"So what happened with the Sloan-Shepherd situation?" He asked in a nonchalant tone, clearly trying to make it clear that he did not care either way, but not particularly succeeding.

She sighed heavily. "That's still up for debate. The baby is Derek's. But he's so … I don't know how to explain it to another person, honestly. He's just not right for me anymore. And then there's Mark, who's always been there. He really has, and I didn't even see that. He told me he loved me earlier. He had this whole speech about it and everything. I think he might have cried."

"Oh, you should've sold tickets." Alex chuckled, thoroughly amused.

"Seriously. But I've not seen Derek yet…" She frowned, wondering where he had disappeared to. Probably to Meredith; he was not the most reliable person anymore.

"Are you kidding me? He's been pacing the halls since you collapsed. He rescheduled all his non-emergent surgeries. He's a wreck out there."

"Really?" Her heart leapt to her throat, hopefully out of habit, and nothing more.

"What do you care?" Alex asked suspiciously.

"I don't," she said, more to herself than to her intern. "Any news about Dr. Stevens?"

His face lit up into a beaming smile, more radiant than she had ever witnessed. "She said I'm mature." Pride was evident in his voice, and if he was trying to hide it, he was not doing a very good job. "She liked the way I stuck by you; she said that it was really … _mature_. I think that's important to her or something."

Addison laughed softly. "I can't imagine why."

His eyes drifted from hers, and she could detect some nervousness creeping into his features. "I did, you know, like you or whatever. You're really awesome. But I'm totally in love with Izzie." He looked relieved to say the words out loud. "It would be weird to _not_ be in love with her."

"Yeah," she said softly, "I know how that feels. I'm really happy for you, Karev." She meant it, too. "You've been a really wonderful friend through all of this. Not like the grown-ups…"

Alex smirked, standing from the chair and placing it back against the wall where it belonged. "Is that supposed to be a compliment, Dr. Montgomery?" He turned to the door, waiting for her answer.

"Yes. It is."

--

Addison was trying very hard to sleep; she knew she needed it, but the excitement she should have felt for twenty-nine weeks was now coursing through her like a wildfire. Instead, she lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed and attempting to tap into some sort of Zen state of being. It was worth a shot, since nothing else seemed to be working.

But then she heard the door open, and she couldn't help but peek through one eye. Attempting to quietly close the door behind him was her ex-husband. She decided to feign sleeping rather than deal with him right now. She immediately began worrying about what he was going to say this time.

"Addie," he whispered, pulling the much-used chair from its place. "Are you awake?" He didn't wait for an answer before he sat down heavily with a deep and defeated sigh.

She gave up ignoring him rather quickly, and let her eyes flutter open, hoping to achieve a having-just-awoken effect. But it was in vain, because Derek's face was buried in his arms, his hands tangled in his uncharacteristically chaotic hair. His body was shaking slightly, and she wasn't certain, but she thought she might have heard faint sobs escaping pitifully into his lap. He was unshaven and changed from his scrubs to the clothes he had come in wearing that morning.

"Derek…" she whispered, every inch of her body hurting for him.

He looked up, his cheeks and nose stained with tears, eyes red and overcome. He looked nothing like the Derek Shepherd renowned around Seattle as "Doctor McDreamy." Instead, he looked more like any other man in his probably very awful and emotional situation. Addison didn't know what to say to him, and his eyes searching hers powerlessly did nothing to help.

"I didn't know what to say, or how to come in earlier. I've been sitting out there, in the hallway, for four hours now, trying to think of what I could say to make it right. Mark and Karev both told me to just go talk to you, that you weren't upset with me. _Though you should be_." He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair. "Meredith and Richard and even people I don't know, told me I should stop stressing and just come talk this over with you. But what could … what could possibly be said in circumstances like these? Are there even words that cover this, or will I have to invent something?"

He must have decided that there were words, because he pressed on, "You have no idea how much I wanted a baby with you, Addie. It was important to me, and I think that's part of the reason our marriage just collapsed in on itself. We didn't make time anymore, for the things we wanted. We just had jobs, we had these rings… It was all mechanical.

"I wanted children with you," he repeated, "but more than anything—anything I've ever wanted before, I want _this_ baby. I wish things could be different for us, that this could have happened at a different time in our lives. Maybe we could have salvaged our marriage then. You mean so much to me, Addie. I don't know how to explain it. But you do, more than I've told you the past few years.

"But," he said loudly as she opened her mouth to protest, "I realize that I'm not what you need anymore. I guess we've … outgrown one another. And," he looked pained, "I know Mark is good for you. That he'll take care of you better than my track record shows I'm capable of doing. We talked, outside, while you were sleeping. Or not sleeping," he smiled softly. "He apologized for New York, as if I hadn't already forgiven him. He's my best friend. You're my best friend. All I want is to see the two of you happy, and if it means being together, who am I to try to stop that?

"If you _ever_ need _anything_ though, remember that I'm here, please. I need to be here. And … I'm sorry, for everything. I shouldn't have stressed you out like that. It was stupid and immature. I knew better."

"Derek, you know it's not all your fault. I should have been better to you. I shouldn't have tried so hard to push you away and exclude you. I should've told you sooner. There's a lot I could have done to make it easier on us both, and the baby, too. After all, he's your son, too."

Derek smiled wearily. "No, it's okay. I understand. I was … a prick."

She laughed, "Yeah, you were."

He leaned back against the seat, studying the woman before him. "You're sure this is what you want?" he said in a tone so quiet she could hardly hear him.

She sighed and considered the question seriously, though she was positive she knew the answer already. "Yes. For the first time, this is absolutely what I want. I think I might love Mark. And I know that you love Meredith. I've seen the way you look at her. You don't look at me like that anymore…

"I've never met another person I … _connect_ with the way I do with you. The time we had together was wonderful, my only regret is that it ended the way it did. You are my best friend, Derek; my soul mate, if I believed in such silly things. We're just not meant to be together—at least not romantically."

Derek seemed to understand and agree with what she said, because he did not say another word. He simply smiled and squeezed her hand, eyes never leaving hers. Without asking permission, he climbed into the hospital bed next to her, a hand placed firmly on her belly, his fingers connecting with their son's heartbeat like a magnet. Addison smiled, though it was unknown to the man behind her.

"I love you, Addison," he stated somberly.

Without missing a beat, perhaps acting as a creature of habit, she closed her eyes and whispered back, "I love you too, Derek." And that she truly meant. Perhaps her love had shifted and changed course, but it was there. It would never leave her, that much she knew.

And then, as if everything had fallen perfectly into place, Addison managed to flutter off into a deep, relaxing sleep, perfectly content for the first time in a very, very long time.

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews! It means a lot, it really does. I hope this makes the Addek fans a little happier. I'm a hardcore Addek, if truth is told, and I actually like this ending better for them than if they had simply tried to give their relationship another go.

There will be an epilogue coming about soon in which you finally get to meet the source of all Addie's troubles! And I'm thinking of a sequel of sorts. Not a full-blown sequel, but definitely something. I have an idea for it already, and it could really be read as a standalone. Would anyone be interested in something like that? Let me know!


	24. Chapter 24: Epilogue

Sebastian Alexander Montgomery-Shepherd was perfect. He had perfect, tiny fingernails. He had a perfect tuft of chocolaty hair atop his perfect little head. He had a perfect baby's mouth which uttered only the most perfect symphonic cries. His barely-open, watery eyes were carbon copies of his father's steely blues, which he insisted would stay that way. He weighed a perfect seven pounds, four ounces, and came to a perfect nineteen inches long. There was not a single thing about his existence that could not be deemed perfect. At least in the eyes of his parents.

"Addie," Derek whispered softly, a look of awe evident in his eyes. "He's … there aren't words." He held his son carefully in the crook of his arms, his cries subsiding as his father whispered soothing coos. Derek didn't turn his teary gaze to Addison as he told her very simply, "I can't believe you did this. All on your own, you did this." He was silent for a moment, running a finger down the child's cheek. "Thank you."

Addison peered wearily up at her ex-husband, who seemed unable to tear his eyes from the boy he was cradling. "You're going to give him separation anxiety at an unprecedented young age if you keep that up," she said gently. But there was a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yeah, come on, quit hogging the kid." Mark stood behind Derek, both having just changed from the scrubs they had worn during the birthing and into sweats and T-shirts. Both knew that for the next few days they would be Addison's constantly on-call support team.

Derek looked up and smiled at his friend, touching a finger to the tip of his son's perfect little nose. He glanced from the boy to Mark, and then reluctantly turned him over.

"Look at you two, sharing," Addison laughed from the bed, happy to just observe after thirty hours of labor. "Precious."

But neither man was listening. Derek was watching Mark like a paranoid mother hen. Mark was paying no attention, tickling the baby's chin. His tiny finger grasped momentarily at the larger man's, and Mark's face broke out into an oversized smile.

"He likes me better," he stated confidently, looking up at Derek with a smug grin. "See that? Was that a smile? Did he smile at you? 'Cause I didn't notice him smiling at _you_…"

"Give me my son back." Derek held out his arms, but Mark turned away from him with a chuckle, remaining absorbed

"I never thought I'd see this," said Addison quietly.

"What, Shep actually showing some emotion? I didn't think he was capable of it, either."

"Oh, and you're definitely Mr. Sensitivity." Derek was defensive in tone, but there was a smile playing around his face, a definite twinkling in his eyes.

"No, I never thought we could be like this again. It's nice." She paused. "Do you think I could maybe see my son?" she asked as she heard tiny whimpers flaring up from the bundle of blankets in Mark's arms.

"We're just warming up to each other, though," he whined.

"And that's just what I need, my child becoming attached to _you_," she teased, "the biggest man whore this side of the Pacific."

"_Former_ man whore," he corrected with a smile, sitting on the bed next to her. "And I think it may have extended further than the Pacific, Ad."

She only shook her head while Derek snorted. The two months that had spanned since Mark had told her how he felt had been magnificent. She really could not recall a point when she had been happier. Perhaps once upon a time with Derek, but even that had been different. The romance and passion she shared with Mark was so unique she could not even compare the relationship to her past with Derek. Her ex was her best friend, someone she knew she would always know better than any other person, but Mark embodied everything she thought about love, everything she wanted and needed.

A knock on the door followed by the entrance of her OB, Chris Stacy, shook her prematurely from her thoughts.

"How's everyone doing?" he asked with a pearly smile.

Derek stood with a peculiar expression as he met Dr. Stacy's eyes. He then strode the length of the room and enveloped the man in a tight, almost brotherly hug. "You have no idea what you've done for me today, Chris," he told him earnestly as he stepped back.

The other man raised his eyebrows, but didn't seem put-off. "Easy, Shep," he laughed.

"So he _is_ human," chortled Mark under his breath, which earned him a well-aimed glare from Addison.

"Anyway, I came to ask if you were ready for some visitors. There's quite a crowd waiting out there."

"Meredith?" asked Derek reflexively. "Small blonde? Probably biting her fingernails and pacing? Snapping at anyone who comes near?" He smiled fondly to himself while Mark and Addison exchanged rolling eyes.

"Um, yeah, I think so."

"What about—" Addison started, but quickly fell silent, looking hesitantly from the man on the bed to the man now in the chair, both who looked curious. "Dr. Karev?"

Dr. Stacy nodded, "I'll ask, and have them sent in."

Immediately after he had left the room, Alex, Meredith, and Izzie came pouring in.

"Oh my God!" Izzie immediately gushed at Mark, who still held a now-sleeping Sebastian. She looked up at him with a look of certain awe sparkling in her eyes, "You're actually holding a baby!"

Addison and Derek laughed, and Mark frowned. "Hey, that's not fair." He looked down with a warm, contented smile. "I love this little guy."

"I still can't believe you named him after the 'Evil Spawn,'" Meredith put in wryly, cuing to Alex that she did not buy into the nickname bestowed upon him by their peers. She sat down on the arm of Derek's chair.

"You named him after _me_?"

"You named him after _him_?" Mark and Derek gawked with incredulity at Alex, as if trying to discern which end was the head on an unidentifiable household pest.

Alex didn't seem to notice though; he just raised his eyebrows dangerously high at Addison, who could only smile weakly.

"Oh. You guys didn't know that. Why did I know that?" Meredith looked confusedly from Derek to Alex to Mark.

"Because Addison told Bailey, who told me, and I told you," Izzie offered. "Alexander is a nice name." She beamed at Addison.

"Wait, why would Bailey tell you and not me?" Alex frowned, clearly believing himself to be of more importance to Miranda Bailey than was Izzie Stevens.

"It is," said Derek quietly before the conversation could continue, "a nice name." He stood up, leaning over his son and carefully lifting him from his friend's arms. "Dr. Karev was here for him—and his mother—when we weren't. He didn't even have to be… Sebastian would be lucky to acquire an ounce of the decency of his namesake." He looked for a moment toward his feet, but brought them up in what seemed to be respect. "Thank you, Alex."

"Dude. Shut up. It's just a freakin' name."

Izzie jabbed her boyfriend in the ribs with her elbow and whispered sharply under her breath, "_Alex! That's rude_."

"It's alright," Addison piped up as loudly as she could muster. She was very, very tired. She glanced at Derek, who was showing off the baby to his intern—_no_, she thought, _to Meredith_. He met her eye and came to stand beside her, the new parents peering down at their tiny creation.

"You did it," he whispered, a look on his face she had never seen before; unmistakably the look of a proud father.

"So you already said." She smiled softly. "So, when do I get my turn?"

Derek sighed heavily then pressed a slow, gentle kiss to the wiggly infant's forehead before reluctantly handing him off to his mother.

Addison relaxed a bit against the elevated bed as the warmth of her son's body met her own, sending a chill down her spine. _My son_, she thought. The words had not really entered her mind. The words "baby," "fetus," "child…" all had been present and obvious, but the fact that this pink and wrinkly little critter was here because she and Derek had _created_ him—actually _created_ _him_—had not been of much concern. This _was_ her son, the very thing she had dreamt of and wanted for years, but never made the time to have.

He was here under strange and unusual circumstances, but now, through all the hardship and tears she had faced and admirably dealt with, Addison knew that it only made Sebastian Montgomery-Shepherd's existence that much more wondrous and beautiful. She really could not imagine having brought him into the world without the help (and perhaps even non-help) of the people surrounding her. Derek, Mark, Alex—they were to be praised for the perfection of her son's arrival (and what more stunning a word was there than "son?" Had she never before recognized its beauty?) as was she herself—and of course, Sebastian's own strong will to make it out alive, healthy, and oddly content.

_No_, she thought as the largest smile she had ever experienced broke out across her sweaty, pallid face, _he's perfect_. His creation, his arrival—everything about him—was perfect. And now there had never been anything she had ever been surer of in the world than the surety of her absolute, unconditional love for her son. She no longer felt the empty loneliness that had once been an overwhelmingly prevalent variable in her life. In fact, what had once been a regret she had dreaded and feared having to live with for the rest of her life, had instantaneously become the happiest and outright best thing to ever happen to her.

_Fin_

A/N: Three years later, I am done. Heh. Took me long enough, eh? I hope you liked this, and that at least one of the original readers got to see the end. That would make me happy. I do plan to pump out a sequel, too. Not exactly a sequel. Perhaps something more of a series of "moments" in the lives of all the characters, focusing mainly on Sebastian and the dynamic of this admittedly rather odd "family." So if you have anything in particular you would like to see in this sequel (which I suppose can be read as a standalone if one so wished to read it that way), shoot your ideas my way and I will jot them down and see what I can do. :-)

You guys have been great! I have an idea for a new and hopefully happier story involving Derek and Addison and a bit of Meredith too (can't forget her, can we?). So be sure to check that out if you're into the pairing. I really want to do something with Mark, too, but I have a feeling that that is a way off, as I'm waiting for the perfect idea.

I have rambled enough. Sorry. Thanks for reading, remember to review.


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